


The Butcher and the Baker

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Jon is a Butcher, Mentions of Cancer, Sansa is a Baker, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:21:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 70,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25982764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “You’re butchers,” she said and her tone was one of pleasant surprise.“Well, Jon’s the butcher. I’m just the pretty front face,” Grenn said, making Sansa laugh.She then looked at Jon with those sparkling blue eyes of hers. “I’ve never met a butcher.”Jon was silently pleased with himself when he was actually able to speak words that made sense. “I’ve never met a baker,” he smiled a little and Sansa laughed again. It wasn’t exactly the truth but what he wanted to say – “I’ve never met a baker who looks likeyou” – wouldn’t be that appropriate.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 1166
Kudos: 798





	1. New Neighbors

…

“Sign’s going up.”

Jon lifted his head from where he was stocking one of the cases, making sure the best cuts were displayed in front, and looked over to Grenn, who stood at the front door of their shop. “Yeah?”

He set his things aside and came around the counter to follow Grenn back outside. The shop next door had been empty for the past year. It used to be a frozen yogurt shop but the machines had always seemed to be broken down and sometimes, the yogurt tasted old and the place hadn’t lasted long. It was no surprise when the business went under and once it was gone, it sat empty.

But about four months ago, the “For Sale” sign was gone from the window and there was fresh brown paper hanging over the windows to hide what was happening on inside. While in their own shop, Jon and Grenn could hear the contractors working – whirring of saws and pounding of hammers – but there was no indication of what was going to be opening next door. They had asked the contractors, but they only said that a woman had bought it.

“Probably selling candles and soaps or something along those lines,” Grenn had said once they heard that.

Jon doubted that though. There was a lot of working going on next door for just a typical commercial shop.

Outside, there were two men on ladders and another on the sidewalk. A woman with long red hair, pale skin, bright blue eyes and a beautiful Malamute dog at her side was watching them.

(Jon had a Malamute as well and he instantly noticed the dog because even though they lived in the North, not that many people seemed to have that particular breed.)

“Right there, lads!” The man on the sidewalk called out and the two on the ladders stopped adjusting it. They all looked to the redhead and she smiled, nodding.

“That works for me,” she confirmed and the man went to the hanging rope that was covering the sign. “Can I?” She then asked with an eager smile.

The man smiled and took a step back, letting her step forward.

Jon looked to the woman. She was young – maybe a couple years or so younger than him – and strikingly pretty. He would actually consider her beautiful. Was this the woman who had bought the shop? She must be. The three men were looking to her, taking their cues from her. Jon watched her as she tugged on the rope, her face upturned to see the cloth fall away. She was smiling and looking so excited, a beacon of light seemed to be surrounding her. He then looked to the sign.

_Flour Power_

And then beneath that, in smaller script, _Pies by Sansa and Hoster_.

“A pie shop!” Grenn grinned, his eyes already gleaming at the idea of a pie shop right next door. He slapped a hand on Jon’s back. “I can definitely support a place like this.”

The woman heard and turned her head towards them. Jon assumed that this woman was Sansa and he gave her a small smile. She returned it with her own and after a moment’s pause, after speaking with the man who was picking up the cloth that had dropped from the sign, she was the one to approach. Jon wasn’t sure why but he made sure he was standing straight.

“Hello,” She greeted politely. “I’m Sansa.”

“Hi, love,” Grenn grinned easily like Grenn always did. He stuck his hand out and Sansa smiled a bit wider, shaking it. “I’m Grenn.”

“Sansa,” she confirmed. Her eyes then floated over to Jon, expecting that he would say his name next.

Jon admitted that he was looking at Sansa – unable to do anything else; until Grenn elbowed him sharply in the side. “Oof,” he exhaled a stream of surprised breath. “Jon,” he quickly said. “I’m Jon.” He stuck out his hand so suddenly then, Sansa jumped slightly with the surprise of it.

“Sansa,” she said again, laughing a little at herself and her reaction.

Jon almost cringed. Well, that was that. His next door neighbor thought he was an idiot; and rightfully so.

“What kind of pies?” Grenn asked and Jon hated his friend for having such an easy time speaking right now.

Jon felt like his tongue was swelling a size per second and that made him hate himself just a little bit. This wasn’t the first girl he had ever spoken with; not the first pretty girl he had ever been around. Would Sansa mind if Jon asked Grenn to punch him in the face right then? He needed to snap himself out of this.

“Mostly fruits and crème pies,” Sansa answered.

The dog next to her nudged Sansa in the thigh with its nose and Sansa reached a hand down, resting it gently on the dog’s head. The dog sat, waiting patiently. Apparently, it had just wanted to remind Sansa that it was still right there.

Jon glanced down to the dog. _She_ wanted to remind Sansa that _she_ was still right there.

“My favorites,” Grenn grinned and Sansa smiled, too; her smile almost big enough to be a laugh. “Well, if you ever run a meat-pie special, we’ll give you a good discount.” He turned and pointed to their shop next door and the pig sign that hung over the sidewalk.

Sansa looked at it and the name of their shop – _The Meat Counter_ – before looking at them both, the smile firm on her face. “You’re butchers,” she said and her tone was one of pleasant surprise.

“Well, Jon’s the butcher. I’m just the pretty front face,” Grenn said, making Sansa laugh.

She then looked at Jon with those sparkling blue eyes of hers. “I’ve never met a butcher.”

Jon was silently pleased with himself when he was actually able to speak words that made sense. “I’ve never met a baker,” he smiled a little and Sansa laughed again. It wasn’t exactly the truth but what he wanted to say – “I’ve never met a baker who looks like _you_ ” – wouldn’t be that appropriate.

The worker on the sidewalk called for Sansa and after excusing herself, she left Jon and Grenn to return to her own shop and the man needing her. Jon watched her for a moment and then looked back up to the sign one more time. He wondered when her official opening day was. Already, he couldn’t wait to try a pie.

“I wonder who Hoster is,” Grenn said out loud as they headed back into their own shop, ready to start the day. “I hope it’s not a boyfriend or husband.”

“Why? You interested in Sansa?” Jon didn’t mean to frown when he asked that question but he did.

Grenn noticed it – of course – and a fresh grin split across his face. “She’s too skinny. She’s not my type. I’m thinking of you, _Jonathan_. Can we trust a skinny baker?” He then asked, more to himself.

Jon went to the door and flipped the hanging sign from CLOSED to OPEN. He had other things to think about now than the pretty baker next door.

…

Upon graduating from high school, like most kids, Jon had absolutely no idea what he wanted to do. His mom, thankfully, wasn’t the sort to force her son into something and without even applying, Jon knew that college wasn’t for him. It wasn’t for everyone and he was lucky enough to have a parent who knew that.

But he was eighteen now and out of school. He had to do _something_ because even though Lyanna Snow had never told her son such a thing, Jon did want to help his mom out.

He got a job in a hotel – The Grey Wolf – and loved it immediately. There was always something to do and Jon liked nothing if not always being busy. He made good money and he was learning a lot. What he would do with everything he was learning, he didn’t know, but he figured they were good skills to have.

Where he really felt himself shine though was in the hotel kitchen and the hotel manager must have thought the same thing because more and more, Jon was assigned to the kitchen for his shifts. The head chef at The Grey Wolf was a man named Jory Cassel and he saw the same thing the manager saw. Every day, he had Jon on a different station so he could learn it all – hot appetizers, cold appetizers, soups and salads and then finally, line cook before he was made sous chef under Jory Cassel.

“Have you thought about culinary school?” Jory asked him one night.

Jon had but he didn’t know if it was for him. “I don’t know if I want to do this. I love it, but-”

“I get it. It’s a lot of hours and a lot of stress. If you don’t love it right away, odds are, you won’t. But I will tell you that you are good at it, if that matters.”

“It does. I just still want to look, I think.”

Look for what, Jon still had no idea.

He was loving all of the work he did. He loved creating things through food but be a chef? That just didn’t sound right to him. He had always thought that when he finally found what he was supposed to do, he would just _know_.

He was breaking down and deboning the duck in the way that Jory had showed him and he lifted his head when he felt eyes on him. Jory was watching him and the man was smiling to himself. Jon stood up straight, looking to his boss and then down to the duck.

“Am I doing it wrong?” He asked, beginning to frown. He didn’t think he had done anything wrong.

When it came to breaking down the duck or the chicken or the turkey, his hands and knife almost seemed to move without needing his brain to actually tell them what to do. It had taken him practice but he had gotten plenty of it and now, anytime there was a bird that had to be worked on, Jory or one of the other cooks in the kitchen gave it to Jon to oversee.

“You’re really good at that,” Jory noted, still smiling. “I know a butcher and I want you to meet him.”

A butcher?

Now _that_ sounded like something.

…

The butcher’s name was Sandor Clegane and he was scary as Hell but under his tutelage, Jon listened to every word he said – _growled_ – everything he showed him and remembered it all.

The day Sandor said to him that he wasn’t that bad, Jon would remember it for the rest of his life, because for the first time, being a butcher was what Jon knew he was supposed to be and if this scary talented bastard, Sandor, thought he could be one, Jon felt like this was what he wanted to be. 

…

Jon had just wrapped up Mrs. Carlson’s order of salami in the white butcher paper when the bell above the door rang out, announcing a new customer. He lifted his head and froze a bit when Sansa the baker walked in. She was carrying a tray in her hands and a smile across her face.

“Hello,” she greeted him as if they were old, dear friends.

For a moment, Jon didn’t speak but then, finally, he was able to shake his head slightly. “Hey,” he said and commended himself for being able to smile at her in return. “What do you have there?”

He went to the computer and typed up Mrs. Carlson’s label.

“Pie pops. Strawberry and blueberry.” Sansa looked to Mrs. Carlson. “Hello, would you like to try a pie pop? They’re from my pie shop next door.”

“Oh, Flour Power!” Mrs. Carlson exclaimed knowingly. “When are you opening? My husband and I can’t wait.” She looked over the tray Sansa offered to her, wanting to choose the most perfect one.

“Two more days,” Sansa said and her smile was constant. “I hope to see you.”

“You definitely will,” Mrs. Carlson promised her, finally deciding on a blueberry pop.

“Please take one for your husband.”

Mrs. Carlson had no issue with doing that and this time, chose a strawberry pop. She then handed Jon her money and Jon handed her the salami. After she left, bidding goodbye to them both and telling Jon she’d see him next week, the bell ringing out after her, Jon peeled off his gloves, tossing them away, before coming around the counter. Sansa smiled at him, holding the tray out for him to see.

Jon looked at the offered pie pops and they honestly looked _too_ good to eat.

He looked at them for too long and Sansa let out a light laugh.

“You’re insulting me,” she said and he could hear the teasing in her tone.

“Christ, I don’t mean to. They just look amazing.” He lifted his eyes to her face to find her eyes settled on him. This time, his smile to her came easily.

“You can have two but don’t tell anyone,” Sansa whispered.

Jon did just that – taking a strawberry and a blueberry. “Thank you.” He didn’t hesitate in trying the strawberry one and as soon as he took a bite, he couldn’t stop himself from moaning. Loudly.

“Thank _you_ ,” Sansa said with a little laugh and her cheeks turning pink.

“Are all your pies like this?”

Within a second of swallowing the first bite, he took the second and devoured the strawberry pie pop. Whatever kind of crust she made, it practically melted on his tongue.

Jon had never considered himself a pie person. Pumpkin, sure, in the fall but if it was a choice between a slab of cake or a slab of pie, he would always go for the cake.

He might be changing his mind on that.

“I like to think so,” Sansa laughed, clearly pleased with his reaction and apparent piggish enthusiasm. “Is Grenn here? He needs a pie pop, too.”

Jon finished off his blueberry one before answering. “He took his lunch early. Like an idiot.”

Sansa laughed again and Jon looked at her with a smile.

“I have to have you try something now,” he decided.

“What did you have in mind?” She asked, going up to the glass case, looking at the large variety of meats. Jon walked around it, tossing the sticks from the pop pies away, and getting a fresh pair of gloves.

“What do you like?” Jon asked, looking over his selections.

“I want to try something I’ve never tried before,” she decided. Jon didn’t know what that would mean but he studied the possibilities. “How about this?” She asked and pointed to a product.

Jon saw that it was the wild boar meat. It was actually from Sandor. The man was retired from butchery – this shop actually used to be his before he sold it to Jon and Grenn – and the man now spent his days, hunting. He brought a lot of his wild game to the butcher shop and was a big seller among a certain clientele.

“I close the shop at six. Come back and I’ll have it cooked and ready for you,” he promised, reaching into the case and picking out the smallest piece; small in case she didn’t like it.

Sansa’s eyes widened a bit. “Oh, Jon. That’s such a pain. You don’t have to cook it-”

“You’re not eating raw boar’s meat.”

“I meant you didn’t have to cook it. I could cook it. That’s such a pain for you.”

Jon ignored that. She had no idea what would be a pain to him. Cooking a bit of boar’s meat for her would be as far from a pain as something could be. He just looked at her – the glass case between them. Her hair was in a braid, pulled over her shoulder, and she was wearing a green apron over her jeans and green sweater.

Even if she wasn’t one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, Jon would still cook a piece of boar’s meat for her because she was his neighbor and those pie pops of hers were amazing.

“Come back at six,” he said and that was that.

…

Jon was honestly surprised when Sansa returned a minute until six and just as Grenn was going to flip the sigh on the door to CLOSED again.

“Hey, neighbor,” he grinned.

Sansa smiled and held up a strawberry pie pop. “For you since I missed you earlier.”

“I was furious when Jon told me.”

“You could have come next door and asked for one.”

“I’m not a beggar, Sansa,” he said and he then proceeded to eat the pie pop in one bite.

“Very impressive,” she laughed at that.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he moaned once he managed to chew it all and swallow. Sansa laughed and blushed. Grenn gave her a smile. “Who’s Hoster? Your boyfriend?”

“My grandfather. He actually has nothing to do with the pies but he’s my investor and he told me under no circumstance should I put his name on the sign but he gave me the money to do this. _Of course_ I was going to give him credit.”

Grenn nodded at that and stuck the stick from the pie pop in his mouth, chewing on it. “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“No. I just want you to think about me naked,” he gave her a wink.

“What the fuck, Grenn?” Jon overheard, coming from the back. He looked to Sansa, practically stopping in his tracks at the sight of her. “You came back.”

“I thought I was supposed to,” Sansa smiled at him.

“You seemed stubborn about it so I wasn’t sure,” Jon went to get the piece of boar’s meat he had already cooked for her and brought it around the counter, setting it down by the cash register. Sansa smiled, stepping forward, and he handed her a set of plastic utensils.

“Is this going to taste just like pork?” Sansa wondered, cutting a small piece for herself.

“Similar but not really,” Jon said.

“Similar but not really,” Sansa echoed with a slight laugh and Jon smiled.

He watched as she brought her fork to her mouth and then chewed – slowly; as if giving her brain and taste buds ample time to form an opinion. Grenn was beginning to properly store the leftover meats away to ensure their freshness and then he began to clean down and sanitize the counter and all equipment.

Jon, of course, would usually be helping him but he found that he couldn’t step away from Sansa as she tried boar for the first time and Grenn wasn’t complaining about it. Jon reminded himself to buy Grenn a beer the next time they went across the street to Edd’s pub.

“Well?” Jon finally had to ask.

Sansa swallowed and then took another moment to decide. “It’s strong. Rich. Not what I was expecting.”

“Do you like it?”

“I actually don’t know,” she said with a shake of her head and a laugh. “I think I do. I don’t know,” she then said again and went to cut herself another small piece. “I need to pay you for this. This is a lot more than just a couple of pie pops that I was giving away to _everyone_.”

“You try to give us money for that small filet, I’m forcing myself to throw up your pie pop,” Grenn overheard.

Sansa looked to Jon to see what he thought about it.

“I’m with Grenn,” Jon said, smiling. Sansa smiled as she chewed on her next piece, looking at him. “Two more days before opening?” He then asked for confirmation.

She swallowed and released a great sigh. “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared before.”

“It’ll be great,” he assured her though he knew that he was a complete stranger and his words probably wouldn’t mean a single thing to her and yet, it was something he _had_ to say.

When he and Grenn took over Sandor’s butcher shop, Jon didn’t sleep at all the night before and threw up more than once. He had been so terrified of what was going to happen and the unknown of it. He wanted to tell Sansa that she would probably throw up, too, but that wouldn’t help a thing.

Sansa looked at him then, visibly swallowing, and he could see her fingers tightening around her utensils.

“I hope you’re right,” she said softly; as if too nervous – or perhaps too scared – to say it any louder than that. She looked down to the boar and after a moment, she looked back to Jon. “This would taste _really_ amazing in a pie.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it. I'm sorry for starting a new story but I had this idea in my head and it wouldn't leave me along until I started writing it.


	2. The Grand Opening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** I added a few tags when I fleshed Sansa's backstory out a bit more. What happens to Catelyn in this chapter, I will NOT be expanding upon it or writing more about it in detail. Sansa will obviously be thinking of her mother - often - but nothing more than happy, good thoughts. I don't want to turn anyone off or scare anyone away, thinking I'm going to be writing about that more than this chapter. **

…

She had learned to bake from her mom.

If Catelyn Stark loved doing anything in her life, it was feeding her family. When her husband, Ned, had gotten a bonus at work, he surprised her by redoing their entire kitchen, updating and modernizing everything and it was certainly the room in the house where Catelyn spent the most time.

Homemade dinners every night were something her children all grew up with and if they had to miss family dinner for any reason, that better have been a very good reason, in Catelyn’s opinion. Big Sunday breakfasts were also a weekly affair and the Stark children’s friends learned that Saturday night were the nights to sleep over if they were invited to because Mrs. Stark would serve them a feast on Sunday morning.

It wasn’t just cooking though. More than cooking, Catelyn _adored_ baking. She was the mom who actually got excited for the PTA bake sales and everyone else got excited at the idea of what Catelyn was going to bake.

Her husband and children knew that summer had officially arrived when Catelyn baked her strawberry pie. Ned would go to the farmer’s market and return with a pound of the freshest strawberries he could find and then present them to his wife as if giving her a diamond.

When Sansa was four, she had wandered into the kitchen and stepped onto the stool at the island counter that was always there for any of the children. She watched her mom as Catelyn rubbed flour on the rolling pin and sprinkled more on the counter and then began flattening out the ball of dough that she had made.

“Would you like to help me?” Catelyn asked with a smile.

“Yes!” Sansa exclaimed. She hadn’t walked in there to bake. She had just wanted to be near her mom but the idea of baking with Catelyn suddenly sounded like the best thing in the world to do.

“Here, let’s bring you over here.” Sansa hopped down so Catelyn could bring the stool around to place it next to her. “Now,” Catelyn smiled as Sansa climbed up again. “Take this-” Sansa beamed as Catelyn handed her the rolling pin. “And let’s get started.”

…

Sansa fell in love with baking. She didn’t know if she would have if she hadn’t walked into the kitchen that day when she was four or if it would have happened – eventually; just at a later date. But she fell absolutely in love with it and she especially loved baking with her mom.

Under Catelyn’s guidance, Sansa learned pies, cakes, cupcakes, cookies, pastries, tarts – _everything_. But pies were what Sansa loved the most because that was what Catelyn loved the most. Apple, pear and pumpkin pies in the fall and winter. Blueberry pies in late winter/early spring and strawberries pies for the summer.

The pies baked in the oven and cooling on the counter were the Stark family’s calendar.

Sansa actually made herself extra pocket money in school by selling pieces of pie to her classmates – and teachers. Her principal was one of her most steady customers.

And when she graduated from high school, Sansa knew exactly what she wanted to do. There wasn’t even that much thought she had to put into it. She applied to the Culinary Institute of King’s Landing and earned her degree in Baking and Pastries. She knew that to bake, she didn’t _need_ a degree or a culinary school education but she thought it was the best step for her to take.

With that degree, it only solidified the path her life was going to take. She was going to bake pies.

…

Catelyn fainted rather suddenly and Ned rushed her to the hospital. The MRI revealed that she had a brain tumor and they could do surgery but the doctors weren’t necessarily optimistic. Some brain tumors just couldn’t be stopped and unfortunately for Catelyn and the Stark family, that was the tumor she had.

The family had three more years together where they all did their best to come to accept what was happening. When Catelyn was too tired to cook or bake, Sansa threw herself into the kitchen and took over. The others made sure they kept the house clean and the lawn was always mowed because Catelyn had always taken such pride in their home and they helped Ned as much with anything he needed.

Rickon would come home from school and do his homework at his mom’s bedside. Bran would come and read out loud to her from one of the dozens of books he was reading. Arya came and laid next to Catelyn in bed and they watched movies together. Catelyn had made a list of every movie she wanted to see and Arya made sure that she got every movie on that list. Robb came and they would talk for hours. Robb never said what they talked about but that was between mother and son and he didn’t have to share.

As for Sansa, she showed her mother her notebook of what she was working on.

“Which one do you like the best?” Sansa asked, showing her mother the page with a smile.

“Oh,” Catelyn laughed. “They’re all so perfect.” She took the notebook and studied each one. “Hmmm. I think I like _Flour Power_ the most.”

Sansa beamed and circled the choice. “The _Flour Power_ it is.”

…

The shop was small but small was exactly what Sansa both needed and wanted. She was going to sell pies and she didn’t need thousands of square footage do to that. When she, her dad and Grandpa Hoster found the vacant space, it was absolutely perfect because it also had an apartment for rent right over it.

The floor was done in refurnished wood. The walls were painted white and the lighting fixtures were grey. The bottom of the pie cases were painted pink. The kitchen was built behind the counter, cases and register – the space open so everyone could see her neat and _clean_ kitchen where the pies were baked. She didn’t have tables inside but she had a bench set up outside in case someone wanted to linger about while eating.

Arya could draw and on one wall, she drew and painted a pie. Above it, she painted YOU SAY GOOD PIE and then below the pie, she painted AND I SAY HELLO. On the opposite wall, she painted another pie with the words YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME?

Next to the cash register, Sansa had a framed picture of Catelyn and a little Sansa, wearing aprons in the kitchen as they baked a pie together.

The day before she was set to open, Sansa stood in the shop – _her_ pie shop – and she knew that she would already trade it all in if it meant her mom could be back here but that wasn’t how things had gone so Sansa was going to fulfill the promise she had made to her mom near the end.

She was going to bake pies and she was going to be happy.

…

Lady woke up to it first, her head flying up and her ears perked, and then Sansa felt her own eyes peel open. It was voices talking outside; the sound of a truck’s door being thrown up; some laughter. Sansa turned her head on the pillow and saw that the clock on the bedside table showed that it was fifteen minutes after four o’clock in the morning. Her alarm was set to go off at five.

Today, she was opening her pie shop. At ten o’clock that morning, she would be officially open for business. She was surprised she had gotten any sleep at all considering last night, she had been so nervous for this day to arrive, she had actually thrown up.

Curious at the noise, Sansa pushed the covers from her body and pulled herself from the bed. Lady jumped down, too, to see what it was. Her bedroom windows overlooked the back alley that her shop and _The Meat Counter_ shared. A white packing truck had reversed into the alley and Sansa saw that Jon and Grenn were already awake and at work, unloading boxes and hunks of meat from the back; back and forth, carrying them into their shop before coming back out for more.

Sansa was glad that her apartment was completely dark because it allowed her to hide herself as she watched. Besides, they were working and why would either of them look up to her window? Sansa didn’t even think they knew that Sansa was now living in the apartment above her shop.

She didn’t know what Jon was carrying but the third man pushed it to the edge of the truck and Jon bent down, hoisting it onto his shoulder before standing up. Whatever it was, it was a massive slab of meat and the way her next door neighbor’s arms looked as he carried it, Sansa was glad their noise woke her up.

…

She had a variety of whole pies and then individual pie slices. She baked all morning until nine-thirty and the cases were loaded up and ready to go. She had a simple menu and she made sure the tiled letters were all in their proper places. Pie slices were $3.00 each (tax included) and whole pies were $20.00 each (tax included); _purposefully_ easy.

After cleaning everything up and making sure her shop was, once again, neat and tidy, Sansa got herself ready. Her dad had surprised her with a new pink apron with _FLOUR POWER_ stitched on the front of it in yellow thread along with an embroidery of a pie. She put that on now and then dragged her sidewalk chalkboard outside. On either side, it simply said OPEN.

Stepping inside again, she turned her sign on the door from CLOSED to OPEN and it seemed like as soon as she got behind the counter again, the door opened – she had a bell over it the same as the butcher shop had – and Sansa looked to her very first customer.

“Were you waiting?” Sansa laughed at the sight of Grenn striding in.

He paused to look around and then looked to Sansa with a grin. She had just met him but she liked Grenn. He seemed to be a very nice and charming man; but not the kind of charming that oozed with warning.

“We open at eight and Jon and I purposely didn’t eat breakfast today,” Grenn informed him, nearing the cases so he could take a look. Sansa smiled, feeling warm at that. “We’re running a special on tomahawk steaks today if you’re interested.”

“I would have no idea what I would do with that,” Sansa replied but she made a mental note to tell her dad and Robb. They both enjoyed a good steak. Sansa did, too – if someone else prepared it.

As Grenn looked over the individual slices through the glass, two more customers entered. Grenn glanced over his shoulder to them before standing up straight and pulling out his wallet.

“Jon told me to get him the strawberry and I will take cherry,” he ordered. It seemed like a very sweet breakfast but of course, Sansa would never tell him – or any customer – that.

Sansa took two of the wanted slices and packed them away in triangle cardboard boxes that fit her slices perfectly. Each individual box was tied off with a piece of twine and a complimentary plastic fork. As Sansa glided them across the counter for him, Grenn grinned at the sight and he handed her the money.

The cash register dinged as she opened it for the first time with her first sale. Sansa looked to the picture of her mom and her hanging next to the register and she smiled but she also almost felt like crying.

…

Her family came in around eleven – a ruckus of noise as they almost always were.

Her Grandma Minisa had passed away years and years ago and when Catelyn became so sick, Grandpa Hoster had relocated from the Riverlands to the North to be with the Starks. He had since stayed put.

Sansa beamed and came around the counter to greet them, instantly swept into hugs from everyone and bombarding with kisses and congratulations.

“How is it going?” Ned asked, his whole being just beaming for her.

“Really good. I was going to close at four but it might have to be before that. I can’t believe how fast I’m selling,” she told him in a lowered voice; almost too afraid to say it out loud because it was going _so_ well and it was _so_ unbelievable.

Ned smiled at her and his eyes were glistening. “I am so proud of you, Sansa, and so is she,” he said and Sansa really was going to start crying now as she and her dad hugged one another.

“Dad! Chocolate crème!” Rickon exclaimed, pointing to a slice behind the case, as Grandpa Hoster took his turn and hugged Sansa long and tight.

“You haven’t even eaten lunch yet,” Ned frowned but was already pulling out his wallet.

…

“What is it?” Sansa had to ask because as Arya ate her slice of strawberry pie, leaning against one of the counters in the kitchen as she did so and keeping Sansa company as the rest of her family had gone either outside or upstairs to her flat. To Sansa, it looked like Arya was doing everything in her power to keep from busting out into tears.

As expected, Arya shook her head quickly but she wasn’t fooling Sansa. She took another forkful of pie and as she chewed, she kept sniffling.

“What?” Sansa asked, quieter.

“It tastes just like mom’s,” Arya finally was able to speak.

Sansa knew that Arya would hate if any attention was drawn to her during an emotional moment so Sansa didn’t say anything. She just put her arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

…

Sansa closed the shop just before three. She had sold every individual slice of pie she had baked. There were a few whole pies left but she was expecting that. She knew that people wanted whole pies around particular holidays and the individual slices would be far more popular.

She went outside after the last customer – taking her last slice of pecan pie with them – and folded up the chalkboard to drag it back inside and after she did, she locked the door, flipped the sign to CLOSED and set the store alarm. Her Grandpa Hoster made sure that she instilled herself with that habit immediately. There were all sorts of nefarious characters running about, even in a mostly safe town like Winterfell, and they would watch a lone woman running a pie shop by herself, dealing in mostly cash, and they would pounce.

After that, she took the remaining pies from the cases and stored them away in her walk in refrigerator to sell them again tomorrow and then collected her cash drawer. As she went into her back office, she opened the door that exposed the flight of stairs that led up to her flat.

“Lady,” she called up so the dog would know she could come down now.

She then went into her office and as she sat at her desk, firing up the computer, she heard Lady hurrying down the stairs. She came straight to Sansa who smiled and scratched her girl behind both ears. Lady’s tail swept back and forth excitedly.

“I have just a few things to see to and then a nice long walk for us both,” Sansa promised.

Lady seemed to agree with that and began to sniff every inch of the office and the kitchen and bakery as Sansa opened the easy accounting program her grandpa had gotten for her as well – able to keep track of the day’s totals, balance books and inventory lists all in one go. It wasn’t the most exciting part to owning her business but when she hit the final day’s totals and saw the final number that greeted her, Sansa smiled.

“So far, so good,” Sansa murmured to herself. She printed off the day’s reports for her binder and then put all of the cash into a solid cloth envelope so no one could see what she was carrying.

Off to walk Lady and to the bank to deposit this into the bakery’s account.

One day down. Countless more to go.

…

After an hour’s long walk – with a stop at the bank – Sansa, walking with Lady, returned to her own block. Her legs slightly burned but she felt good. Happy. And she smiled because of it. Her steps slowed as she neared _The Meat Counter_. There was a sign in the window – TOMAHAWK STEAKS $31.00 EACH – and she thought of Grenn’s words. That was considered a sale price? What was so special about a steak that it would cost more than thirty dollars, _uncooked_?

Well, she was curious now. She fully expected it to come with a side of gold flakes or something.

She knew Lady wouldn’t want to go back inside quite yet so Sansa securely tied the dog’s leash to the parking meter outside the butcher shop. Lady sat down on the ground, panting from their walk, but looking quite happy, too. Sansa gave her dog a kiss on the head before turning and going into the shop. The bell rang and Jon was behind the counter. He turned his head away from the customer he was seeing to and he smiled when he saw that it was her. Sansa was already smiling and seeing Jon – and seeing Jon smiling at her – she just kept on smiling.

Her next door neighbor was quite the handsome man. Well, actually _both_ of them were, but Grenn… well, she really didn’t think she had a type and there was absolutely no reason why Grenn wouldn’t be her type but there was something about Jon the Butcher. He had her attention.

He finished with the customer, wrapping their meat in the white paper and rung each thing up. The man was buying quite a few pounds of various meets and Sansa pretended to peruse the cases as Jon gave the total of a number in the three digits.

“Thanks, Jon,” the man said, with his things in his arms.

“See you later, Lou,” Jon said, his eyes already resting on Sansa as the bell rang out.

She was now the only customer in there and she wondered where Grenn was. It was quiet. He wore jeans and a grey and black flannel shirt – a peak of a white tee-shirt underneath visible – and the sleeves were rolled to his elbows. He wore a white apron – a few smears of blood or _something_ on it, she noted – and his black curly hair was long enough for him to have pulled back into a bun. She instantly judged man with a bun but not with Jon. He made it work.

“Done for the day?” Jon asked.

“Sold out,” Sansa said and the smile stretched across her face.

Jon returned it with a smile of his own. “Not exactly surprising. I’m trying to remember the last thing I had that is as good as your strawberry pie.” Sansa felt her face warm at that. It certainly wasn’t the first compliment someone had given her pies that day and yet, somehow, this one made her belly tighten harder than any of the others. “So what can I do for you?” He stretched his arms out to either side, across the case. “More boar for celebrating?”

Sansa laughed at that. “Actually,” she pointed to the sign in the window. “I wanted to see what a thirty dollar steak looks like,” she admitted.

He gave a grin at that and got himself a fresh pair of gloves. “I love butchering tomahawks. As lame as it probably sounds, I feel like an artist when I’m butchering it.”

He pulled out a tomahawk from the case and it was a piece of raw meat, yes, and yet… it was beautiful in a way Sansa couldn’t even begin to describe. Maybe because she now knew that Jon had butchered all of these steaks because they certainly didn’t come from the cow looking like that. And she undoubtedly could never do _anything_ like that. The bone was cleaned white and the meat on the end was heavy and perfectly cut.

“It’s like a lollipop,” she felt the need to say but Jon didn’t smile at her like she as an idiot. He smiled, pleased that she seemed to think so. Maybe calling a tomahawk steak a lollipop was a compliment. It was a thick cut of meat, too. The price made a little more sense now.

“Would you like one?” Jon asked.

“I already told Grenn when he mentioned it to me this morning. I would have no idea what to do with that. How do you cook it?” She asked, still looking at it. She _did_ want it, she discovered, but what would she do with it? Cutting it up and cooking it in a pie somehow seemed like a very wrong thing to do.

“Well, I, personally, start it off on the grill and then I move it to a very hot frying pan. And then I just baste and baste it in butter until it’s medium rare,” Jon said. “I can…” he began to say and then stopped himself abruptly, his own face gaining a little color.

Somehow – she didn’t know how, but somehow – Sansa knew exactly what Jon had been about to say.

“I really would like it,” Sansa said. “But I think I might be hopeless cooking it.”

She looked at Jon and made sure he saw the wide open door.

Jon looked at her and something sparked in his eyes. Yes, he definitely saw the wide open door. Now, all he had to do was take the first step through it.

“If you’d like… after I close up and finish everything here… I could cook it for you,” he offered.

Sansa was very aware of her heart beating. “It’s too big for one person. Would you join me?” She asked.

Jon was all but staring at her now from the other side of the meat case, still holding the tomahawk steak. “I would love to.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! Your response to the first chapter was amazing and I hope you like this chapter as well!
> 
> *Tomahawk steaks really are beautiful but I wasn't going to post a picture because I know I have some vegetarians reading this and no one wants to see a picture of raw meat anyway lol


	3. Boxed Cheesecake

…

“Fuck, Snow, STOP!” Grenn shouted when he couldn’t take anymore.

Jon, to his credit, looked both completely innocent and surprised at Grenn’s outburst. “What’d I do?”

“Your hair has not changed in the last six years. Up. Down. Who cares? Stop standing in front of the mirror like it’s different.”

“Stop snapping at me,” Jon frowned and then turned back to the mirror.

After closing the butcher shop and packing away and cleaning everything, he and Grenn – also roommates – headed back home. They, along with their two other roommates, rented a flat above a kitchen supplies shop, just a couple of stores down from their own shop. They would have loved to rent the flat above their butcher shop but their store was only one floor tall and there was no flat to rent.

Sansa lived above her own shop and Jon was going over there to cook her dinner. Dinner for Sansa. He was going to Sansa’s flat to cook Sansa dinner. Gods, he was nervous. He had no idea what was going to happen. Obviously, they were going to eat. Hopefully, he wouldn’t burn the tomahawk or serve it completely rare. Maybe they would have good conversation.

He had showered so he didn’t smell like blood and raw meat and had put on a clean pair of blue jeans and a plain gray tee-shirt. Hair up, hair down. He was still figuring that out before Grenn yelled at him.

“Let me see.” Grenn’s girlfriend, Ygritte, declared, walking into the bathroom. “Face me.” Jon did so and waited as she inspected him up and down.

Grenn and Ygritte had been dating for over a year – a record for them both – and she had recently moved in (Grenn making sure it was fine with Jon and Edd, his roommates before he asked her). Jon and Edd both liked Ygritte and easily considered her to be one of their friends; not just because she was Grenn’s girlfriend. She just slipped right into their group and fit in perfectly. She was comfortable being just one of the guys but she was quick to call them on their shit when they were being _too_ guy. Grenn was planning on proposing to her – he didn’t know when or how – but he let Jon and Edd that that was in his future. Some day. Eventually.

“Leave it down,” Ygritte decided. “It’s at a good length.”

“Thanks,” Jon managed a smile and looked back to the mirror. He grabbed his toothbrush and as he began to brush his teeth, Ygritte remained in the bathroom with him, leaning against the wall next to the sink.

“So, what’s the pie maker like?” Ygritte asked with a smile.

Jon just looked at her, his mouth full of toothpaste.

“She’s like her pies,” Grenn, who had also stayed in the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, took it upon himself to answer. “Sweet and good looking,” he grinned and Ygritte laughed at that.

Jon still had too much toothpaste in his mouth to answer but even if he could speak, he wouldn’t disagree with anything Grenn had said.

…

Jon arrived back at _Flour Power_ at exactly one minute until seven. There were the front doors to the shop and a third door at the end of the storefront, painted yellow. Jon went to that door and rang the doorbell.

A moment later, her voice was in the speaker box next to the bell. “Jon?” She sounded slightly breathless.

“It’s me,” he confirmed, already smiling like an idiot.

The door instantly unlocked with a click and Jon opened it quickly. Before him was a flight of stairs and at the top was another door. Jon stepped inside and paused to make sure the door closed, locking again, behind him before heading on up. The door opened and there she stood, smiling as she watched him.

Her hair was now in a braid and she still wore the blue jeans and blue shirt she had been wearing that day. She looked beautiful and her smile was doing nothing to calm his nerves. Her dog appeared at her side, panting and wagging her tail.

“Hey,” Jon greeted Sansa. He was smiling and he just hoped it was a natural smile and he didn’t look like a sociopath trying to appear normal.

“Hi,” Sansa said and she just kept on smiling so maybe his smile _was_ normal looking. “I’m so glad you came,” she then said as if there was the slimmest possibility of him not showing up. “This is Lady.”

“Hello, Lady,” Jon greeted the dog as if she was any other new person he was meeting and Lady’s tail swept faster, clearly pleased that he had. “I have a Malamute, too,” he then told Sansa.

Sansa gasped at that, her face lighting up. “Really? We need to have a play date for them!”

…

The flat was over the store – obviously – so it wasn’t the biggest place in the world but for Sansa and her dog – and a dinner companion – it was the perfect size. The floor was the same hardwood as the floor in her shop and the throw rug in the living room was a pattern of pink and white checkers. She had a comfy-looking L-shaped gray couch with throw pillows in just about every color, Jon figured. Her coffee table had a vase of fresh flowers on it and the television across from the couch was muted on a television show he didn’t know.

The living room, dining area and kitchen were all one open space and Sansa certainly didn’t hate color. Her kitchen was in grays and mint green and Sansa stepped ahead to go to the refrigerator, getting the tomahawk steak from inside.

“I also made a cheesecake for dessert,” Sansa said as Jon set the bag he had brought with him on the counter, pulling out the couple of things he had brought with him. She pulled out a fresh stick of butter and left it next to the stove for him.

“Just whipped it up, huh?” Jon smiled, teasing, and she laughed.

“It’s not from scratch so don’t get _too_ excited.”

“Do you like carrots? I like to have carrots as my side. I cook them in the butter, too.”

Sansa laughed again. “So much butter and then cheesecake. I won’t be eating at all tomorrow the way this dinner tonight is going.”

That was the last thing she had to worry about, Jon thought, but he didn’t say that out loud. That might creep her out and lead her to believe that he had been staring at her body. He _had_ but Sansa didn’t need to know that. She had invited him over to her flat tonight for dinner and he would like to stay and actually eat that dinner with her.

“But do you like carrots?” Jon asked again with a small smile.

“I love carrots, especially bathed in butter,” she nodded, her smile never leaving her face, and Jon nearly exhaled with relief.

So far, so good.

…

Jon hadn’t cooked dinner for a girl in a long time; not since he worked at the hotel and was still figuring out what he wanted to do with himself. He admitted that he used to do it to get girls to sleep with him. It always worked, too. The girls he met went crazy when he offered to cook them dinner.

He hadn’t done that in a long time though and he wasn’t doing that tonight with Sansa.

Would he protest that if Sansa wanted to end the night like that? Absolutely – obviously – not but he didn’t have ulterior motives in cooking this tomahawk steak. He just wanted to spend some time with her and get to know her. Yes, she was beautiful and baked delicious pies but Jon knew there was more to her and he wanted to find all of it out. He hoped she wanted to get to know him, too.

Sansa stayed with him in the kitchen, watching as he cooked the steak in the iron skillet pan he had brought with him, Jon very aware of her near-presence and very aware of everything he was doing.

When Sansa first saw what he was going to be cooking in, she showed him that she had one as well. “If I had known that’s what you needed, you wouldn’t have had to lug yours all the way here,” she said.

Jon had smiled and taken the pan to look it over. It was very well used but someone had also taken great care in cleaning it. “This is a beautiful pan,” Jon had commented and it might have sounded weird for him to call a cooking pan beautiful but Sansa smiled because she was a baker and she _got it_.

“Thank you,” she said, clearly pleased. “It was my mom’s.”

Jon noted the past tense in that sentence but didn’t ask.

He was now concentrating on preparing the best tomahawk steak he had ever cooked, his spoon constantly scooping the melted butter up from the pan and bathing the meat in it.

“Did you go to culinary school?” Sansa asked from next to him where she leaned against the counter.

“I didn’t. I worked in a hotel kitchen and learned everything there. I considered it, before I fell into butchery, but knew it wouldn’t be for me.”

He wasn’t embarrassed with the answer he gave her. There were plenty of people in the food industry who knew how to cook who hadn’t gone to culinary school. Actually, people who didn’t prided themselves on it against the ones who did have that useless degree.

“How does one fall into butchery?”

Jon smiled a little, looking to Sansa and seeing her smile. “Very carefully,” he said and she laughed. He then thought of something to ask her. “Did you go to culinary school?”

He would be sure not to mention useless degrees if she did.

“I did,” Sansa said with a nod. “I know I didn’t have to but I did and got a degree in Baking and Pastries. My mom was the best baker in the world and she taught me everything she knew but I went just to get a little more polished.”

There was that past tense again, Jon noted.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she suddenly says and Jon’s eyes fly up to look at her. “Culinary school snob.”

She was still smiling so Jon knew that she wasn’t being serious but Jon shook his head anyway.

“Close, but no,” he joked and she laughed which just made him smile more because he was an idiot and hearing this girl laugh did things to him. “I was thinking that this is done. I’ll rest it for five minutes and cook up the carrots in that time and then, we can eat.”

…

Sansa’s plates were white with purple polka dots and she set the table as Jon carved the tomahawk into two equal portions. He divided the carrots as well and they sat down across from one another, both smiling.

Jon admitted to waiting to take the first bite of his steak until he saw Sansa take the first bite of hers.

And when she moaned as she chewed, Jon admitted that that did things to him, too.

…

Just a little after eight and he would usually already be in bed, asleep, because he and Grenn had such early mornings at the butcher shop for their deliveries but instead, he helped Sansa clean up her kitchen and then with cups of tea and a plate with a slice of cheesecake each, they settled themselves on her couch.

It was Jon’s turn to moan as he took his first forkful of cheesecake.

“Relax,” Sansa laughed though she was visibly blushing. “It’s from a box,” she reminded him.

“I don’t care. I can’t make this.”

Sansa just kept blushing and took a sip of tea. “Don’t ever tell my dad this but that was the most amazing steak I have ever had.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” Jon said and he meant that.

“Will you tell me how you _actually_ became a butcher?” She asked, finally taking a bite of her own cheesecake. Jon noted that she had seemed just fine with sipping her tea and watching him eat his.

“You’re not expecting a compelling story, are you?” Jon had to know and she laughed.

Jon had never considered himself to be a funny guy but Sansa seemed endlessly amused with him. In the back of his mind, Jon had to wonder if he truly was that funny – he knew he wasn’t – or if Sansa was laughing _at_ him. He couldn’t imagine Sansa ever laughing at anyone though.

He took a sip from his own teacup and settled back into the couch cushions behind him. Sansa turned a little bit more towards him, as if she was worried she would miss a single word of what he was about to say.

“After high school, I knew I didn’t want to go to college but I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I got a job in a hotel, The Grey Wolf, and after a while, I found myself working in the kitchen. There’s where I met Grenn. And there, the head chef realized that I had talent and I really enjoyed cooking and making food but there was just something about how I felt when I was working with meat. For the first time in my life, I was doing something that I could actually imagine myself doing for a long time.”

Sansa smiled at that and he smiled, too.

He took another bite of cheesecake. “What about you?” He asked once he swallowed. “How did you realize that you make the best pies in the world?”

Her smile turned shy and Jon had the sudden urge to lean over and touch her hair. A strand of it had fallen from her braid and he wanted to feel how soft it was; feel how soft her skin was as his fingers brushed along his cheek. He imagined what she would do. Would she slap him? A guy who was still pretty much a stranger – her next door shop neighbor who cooked her dinner or not, he was still a stranger – touching her? Slapping him might be the least harmful thing she could do.

“My mom always loved to bake. Her favorite place in the world was the kitchen with flour in the air. When I was four, I remember that I just wanted to be near her and went into the kitchen when she was making a pie. She asked if I wanted to help and I never stopped. She passed away last year.”

“I’m sorry.”

Jon knew that that was the automatic response when a person heard that but he truly meant that. He knew that Sansa wouldn’t know that but he couldn’t even imagine how it would be if – and when – he lost his mom.

“She’s actually the one who chose _Flour Power_ as the name for my shop. I had a bunch written down and I had her pick which one she liked the best. And every pie I bake now, it’s for her and I like to think there’s a piece of her in it.” Her eyes looked a little wet but she was still smiling – a small one – but it was still pulling at the corners of her mouth despite the obvious thoughts weighing on her mind now.

“Well, your mom tastes delicious.”

He cringed. Immediately. The words fell from his mouth and fuck him. He had really just said that to her. Those words had actually just formed in his brain and left his mouth. 

Sansa blinked at him, obviously just as stunned, and her hand went to her mouth. She then began to laugh. She started to laugh, her shoulders moving up and down and her entire body shaking, and she couldn’t stop.

“And now, I’ll just light myself on fire and show myself to the door,” Jon said wryly, still inwardly cringing with deep mortification, but Sansa was still laughing – her eyes wet now no longer because of being so close to tears but for laughing so hard – and she reached a hand out, touching his arm.

Jon watched her and began to smile and finally, Sansa’s laughter began to subside.

“Thank you,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

“For what?”

“I haven’t laughed like that in a very long time.”

That made Jon smile and Sansa’s hand was still on his arm.

…

“What’s your favorite movie?” Sansa asked before taking a sip of tea.

Jon thought for a moment. “The _John Wick_ trilogy.”

“Your _favorite_ ,” she smiled.

“They’re all in the same _one_ boxset,” he gave her a grin and she laughed. “What’s your favorite movie?”

“If we’re playing that way, _Paddington_ and _Paddington 2_. They’re on the same DVD.”

Jon’s grin widened and Sansa laughed again. “Favorite band,” he started the next round.

“The Lumineers,” Sansa said, not needing time to think it through. “Before my sophomore year of college, my older brother, his girlfriend, our friend and me followed them around on their Westeros tour in a mini-food truck and I sold pie slices.”

“That sounds amazing.”

“Best summer of my life,” Sansa agreed. “Favorite band.”

Jon sighed. “I’m one of _those_ guys. I just really love the Dave Matthews Band. It reminds me of high school and I have so many songs of theirs that I can tie to a specific memory.”

Sansa smiled softly. “What’s wrong with that?”

“So many douchebags listen to the Dave Matthews Band.” He smiled when Sansa laughed. “Favorite book?”

“ _Heidi_.” Again, she didn’t need to think it over. “Favorite book?”

Jon _did_ have to think that over for a moment. “ _Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark_.”

Sansa’s entire face lit up with her smile at his answer and her smile only made him feel like he could smile the rest of the night.

…

“You get up extremely early,” Sansa noted once everything was cleaned up and with his pan in hand, Jon and Sansa walked to her front door.

“Deliveries,” Jon gave a single nod. “I bet you have to get up early, too, to start your baking.”

“I do.” She paused a moment and Jon waited, it obvious she wanted to say something else. “I have a coffee pot in my office. Would you like to come over tomorrow morning for a cup before our shops open? If you have time?” She asked in one great breath as if she was fearful of his possible answer and her bravery to ask him was only lasting for a few seconds.

Again, Jon wanted to touch her hair or her face but then he reminded himself that he was being creepy and _no one_ liked a creep. He tightened his hand around the pan’s handle.

“I already can’t wait,” he said and he loved to watch her cheeks turn pink.

She opened the door for him. “Good night, Jon.”

“Good night, Sansa,” he smiled.

He had just taken the first step down. “Wait!” She suddenly exclaimed. Jon instantly stopped and turned back towards her. She had hurried away and then was back within an instant. “I meant to give this to you. For your roommates.” She held out the container with the rest of the cheesecake.

Jon hadn’t told her about Grenn, Ygritte and Edd; only that he had three roommates. He had stories to tell about them, of course, but he hadn’t wanted to scare her away too badly. He already told her that her mom tasted delicious. One frightful sentence was his max.

“They’re going to go Godzilla over this,” Jon smiled and Sansa beamed. He told himself to leave; to start heading down the stairs, but instead, he was staring at her. “I might just keep it for myself.”

“Don’t do that. I can make you an actual cheesecake from scratch. Give that one to your roommates.”

Jon smiled and so did she. “Good night, Sansa,” he said again.

“Good night, Jon.” Her voice was soft and gentle and that was the last voice he wanted to hear tonight. Hopefully, no one was awake in his flat that would talk to him.

Finally, he headed down the stairs and stepped outside, making sure the door clicked firmly behind him.

There was a restaurant on the street – still open – and a coffee shop – still open as well – but everything else was closed and dark for the night. Jon remained standing in front of Sansa’s bakery and looked up to the windows of her flat, seeing the lights still on. He wondered what she was doing; changing into her pajamas, brushing her teeth, brushing her hair, getting herself ready for bed.

He really had to get himself back home so he could do the same. He had to be up in a few hours to receive his first delivery of the day, but he remained where he was, looking up to Sansa’s flat, assuring himself that he wasn’t being _too_ creepy.

Well, that was that. He was completely gone for her already.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for reading!!
> 
> Also, if you read _I Bet You Look Good on the Dancefloor_ , I fell absolutely in love with writing a very different version of Ygritte and I'm going to be doing the same thing again in this story just because I want to.


	4. Sweet Beets

…

When she found out that Jon took his coffee black, for whatever reason, Sansa didn’t find herself surprised. She just smiled and poured him a cup from the freshly brewed pot. Sansa, herself, liked cream and sugar and Jon took a sip from his cup as she got hers together.

“I have a confession to make,” Jon said and Sansa turned her head to look at him, giving her coffee one more stir before setting the spoon aside.

“And what’s that?” She smiled.

He began to smile, too. “I always preferred cake to pie.”

“Blasphemy. Get out of my shop.” She let out a laugh and Jon’s smile grew wider.

Jon Snow was a ridiculously good-looking man, Sansa thought to herself – and certainly not for the first time. It didn’t seem fair, in a way, that this man would get _such_ looks while some men didn’t get any at all.

“My older brother, Robb, brought a girl over once that he was dating and she said that she wasn’t a dessert person. We all just looked at her because we had no idea what that meant,” Sansa said and it was Jon’s turn to laugh, Sansa smiling and feeling happy that she got him to.

“Before your shop, there was a frozen yogurt place here,” Jon said after a sip of coffee. “We were excited at first but then the machines were always broken and the yogurt tasted old and people used their bare hands to reach into the different toppings.”

“That’s a shame. I love frozen yogurt.” Sansa took her own sip of coffee.

“Not a shame for me. You wouldn’t be here otherwise,” he mused, more to himself, but Sansa heard him perfectly. Her stomach did the most gentle flip. “What other kind of things do you love?” He asked and turned to face her more fully.

Sansa wasn’t sure why but she felt her cheeks warming as his eyes settled into hers. “What did you have in mind?” She thought to ask.

His smile was small; almost shy in a way as if he wasn’t entirely sure of his next words. “There’s a small restaurant just a few shops down from ours. Sweet Beets.” Sansa smiled wider at the name. “The butcher shop is closed at noon on Saturdays and all day on Sunday. I usually just spend my days off doing laundry, grocery shopping and sleeping as much as I can.” Sansa’s smile did nothing but grow. “Would you like to come to Sweet Beets with me on Saturday evening?”

“Yes,” Sansa answered immediately; before Jon could even finish the question completely.

“Yeah?” He had been looking so nervous but now, he began to smile, too.

“I would love to go out with you on Saturday night, Jon,” she said.

Jon was still looking right into her eyes and as he smiled, Sansa smiled, too, her stomach clenching now.

She almost hated that he asked her out on Wednesday because there were still too many days until Saturday but at least with it being _only_ Wednesday, she still had plenty of time to decide what she was going to wear.

…

There had been dates before and a few boyfriends but nothing too serious. At the time, Sansa hadn’t been sure _why_ none of her relationships had ever led to anything more serious. She had loved being in relationships and going on dates but there was just…

_Something_ was _always_ missing.

Harry was the longest – almost two years – and it reached that point where if they weren’t going to get engaged and married, what were they doing? They realized they were living more as roommates than anything else.

“You fall in love so easily, Sansa,” Catelyn had said as they rolled their dough out for a cherry pie they were making for Ned’s birthday dinner that evening. “Did you love every boy you’ve dated?”

“I did,” Sansa answered with a frown, not understanding what her mother meant. Catelyn was saying that being in love with her boyfriends was almost like a bad thing. “ _Of course_ I did. Isn’t a girl supposed to be in love with the boy they’re dating?”

“Of course, dear, but not within the first week or even month.”

“People do fall in love quickly like that, mom.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I fell in love with your dad within an instant,” Catelyn smiled and Sansa smiled, too, because she always loved hearing about her parents’ love story. “And of course you can fall in love in an instant, too, Sansa, but you know the difference? I actually _like_ your dad. Not just love. Liking the person is just as important.” Catelyn paused in her rolling to look at Sansa across the kitchen counter island from her. “Did you like any of your boyfriends?”

Sansa had assumed the answer would have flown from her mouth.

She _must_ have liked them if she loved them.

… Right?

(Sansa couldn’t answer her mother’s simple question because she knew the answer and she didn’t like it.)

…

Around one o’clock, she was boxing two pies for a woman who had hurried in, looking for something she could take to her office’s potluck that afternoon, when her grandpa entered the shop.

“Hi!” Sansa’s entire face lit up when she saw him. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t come and check on our shop?” Hoster Tully answered with a smile.

Sansa laughed at that. She rang up the woman’s pies. “I hope they like both of these. The strawberry pie is the best, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you kidding?” The woman laughed, swiping her credit card, and Sansa slid pies across the counter to her. “They almost look too good to eat but trust me. My coworkers will inhale these. We have a potluck every month so I’m sure I’ll be back again. And I _love_ that you make pumpkin in September. I wish people baked that pie year round.”

Sansa couldn’t stop beaming and Hoster moved to hold the door open for her and her pies.

When it was just the two of them, Sansa hurriedly came around the counter to hug him.

When Catelyn had gotten so sick and Hoster had moved to Winterfell from the Riverlands, the whole Stark family was so grateful he was there to help and after her death, Ned had walked around in a fog for a few months after and Hoster rolled up his sleeves, taking over things for all of the time Ned needed. And when Hoster made the decision to remain in Winterfell full time, again, there was nothing but relief and happiness.

“I’m getting too old to keep moving around. I’m here to stay,” Hoster told the family over dinner one evening, which, since Catelyn’s death, had remained just as important as always.

Ned was glad to have his father-in-law staying with him and there was a lovely apartment over the garage that Hoster was already staying in and which now became his permanently. (No one wanted to say it because Rickon had always been a bit on the wild side but since his mom’s death, he seemed to get even more wild and Ned would need all the help he could get with him.)

Since she was a young girl and learned she could make money doing this, Sansa had been selling pie slices to anyone who wanted to buy one and putting the money aside – for a rainy day – so while in culinary school, and she came to the decision to open an actual pie shop upon graduation, she had some money squirrelled away, yes, but not nearly enough.

She would have been able to open a pie shop – eventually – but it would have taken her years.

“I know how important it was to your mother that you do this,” Hoster told her once he approached her with the idea of going into business together. “And with your pies, Sansa, this _will_ be a success.”

(He had done the same with Robb, buying him one of the top cameras on the market so Robb could continue his research of the endangered direwolf, in the far North region of Westeros.)

“How’s business today?” Hoster asked once their hug ended and they both moved to the pie cases so he could see for himself.

“Very good,” Sansa nodded in confirmation. “The strawberry and blueberry seem to be our biggest sellers though I think the apple-cinnamon is a close third. And what the woman said just now before leaving, I’ve had three other people come into the shop today and were so happy to see I was selling pumpkin pie.”

“That’s very good to know,” Hoster nodded, looking over the cases and the depleted inventory. He went around to the register and pulled out three dollars, slipping it into the drawer and ringing up the purchase. He then helped himself to a slice of the pear pie. “Now, I’m going to be in the office, looking over the books, if you need me.”

Sansa smiled. “I think I have it figured out. That program you got me is pretty easy but I’m sure I’ve made a mistake somewhere.”

“I’m sure you haven’t. I just want to look at daily sales so far.” He leaned in and kissed her on the side of her head, his arm around her shoulders.

Together, they looked over the small pie shop and his eyes landed on the photograph Sansa had on the wall of her and Catelyn. Sansa had lost her mom but Hoster had lost his daughter and both still grieved for her. They would be missing and grieving for her for the rest of their lives.

They seemed to know what the other was thinking in that moment and Hoster kissed her on the head again. Just as he was turning to go into the back, the door opened, the bell rang and Jon entered the shop.

Sansa’s smile was instant. “What are you doing here?” She couldn’t help but ask.

She had already learned that if Jon needed something throughout the day, Grenn would be the one to leave the shop and get it for him.

“The sandwich shop across the street makes amazing soups and they’re selling their carrot today, which is their best. I was going over there to get myself a bowl for lunch and wanted to see if you might want one.”

“That sounds amazing. I’ve never tried carrot soup before. How much is a bowl?”

“My treat,” Jon waved that off. And then, as if he knew that she was about to protest that, he added, “You can get the next bowl.”

“Deal,” Sansa said and in the back of her mind, she noted that she seemed to smile so much when around Jon; almost constant. She couldn’t remember smiling this much around a man – or boy – before and those words her mother said to her all that time ago now rang in her ears. _Liking the person is just as important._

From the corner of her eye, she saw movement and was reminded that her grandpa was still there; having stopped from going into the back when he saw Jon come into the shop.

“Jon, this is my Grandpa Hoster,” Sansa began the introductions.

Jon stepped forward. “Hoster of Pies by Sansa and Hoster. It’s nice to meet you.” He held out his hand and Hoster stepped forward as well so he could shake it.

“I couldn’t bake my way out of a paper bag,” Hoster smiled at that.

“Grandpa, this is Jon Snow. He owns the butcher shop next door,” Sansa finished.

“It’s nice to meet you, Jon,” Hoster said. He then looked to Sansa with a smile. “A butcher and a baker. That’s quite fitting,” he then couldn’t help himself in noting.

Both Sansa and Jon blushed at that.

…

“You’re being slightly crazy,” Arya noted as she sat on the stuffed stool at the vanity in Sansa’s bedroom and watched Sansa as she looked over the three dresses she had laid out in front of her. Lady had planted herself down in front of Arya and she now scratched behind the dog’s ears for her.

“Only slightly? I feel completely manic,” Sansa commented.

Arya gave a grin at that. “So why do you feel manic about this guy?” She had seen Sansa get herself ready for plenty of dates before this one and even if it was a first date, Sansa had always seemed so calm about it; a little nervous energy, sure, but nothing like this.

Arya could _feel_ the nerves radiating off of her sister and encompassing the entire bedroom.

“I don’t know,” Sansa answered with a shake of her head, still looking over the dresses. “There’s something about him… I don’t know. I just met him,” she then said as if trying to tell herself that there was no reason to be behaving in such a way.

Arya just shrugged though. “What did mom always say? When a person knows, they know. And dad always said that he was ready to buy mom an engagement ring after their first date.”

“But we also know that not every love story is like mom and dad’s.”

Arya said nothing to that immediately and watched as Sansa picked up a navy blue sweater dress and held it against her body as she stood in front of the mirror hanging on the inside of her open closet door. Watching her, Arya was _quite_ curious about this butcher who was taking her older sister tonight. Sansa was right. She was definitely manic and there must be something special about this guy.

Sansa turned away from her reflection, back towards Arya with the dress still pressed to her front. “This one?” She asked her and she was so nervous, she was beginning to make Arya nervous, too.

Whatever this date was and whoever this man was, it was obviously a very big deal on both counts.

“You look beautiful,” Arya smiled at her sister; a smile which Sansa returned. “When do I get to meet him?”

Sansa laughed, going to lay the dress down on the bed before returning the other two options to the closet. “Let’s see how tonight goes. I can’t just throw him at you and the rest of the family without seeing if he _wants_ to be thrown at you.”

After going through – and surviving – puberty and the teenage years where all they did was fight and wanted to kill one another, a miracle happened. Sansa and Arya began talking with one another and then, they began spending time together and both realized that now that they were grown, and no longer sharing a bathroom, they actually _liked_ each other.

And especially after the death of their mom, the two sisters spoke – at least – once a day.

When they were children, Arya had been convinced that she was just like their dad and Sansa was just like their mom and neither were like the other parent. In time though – and with her age – Arya saw how false that was. Sansa and herself – and their brothers, too – were their parents. Every bit of them were made up with Stark and Tully and the romantic side of Sansa – being in love with love as she was – Arya now knew it came from both of their parents.

Arya knew how badly her sister wanted a man in her life who she could be with – love and marry and have children with; the whole nine yards. Though Sansa was busy with her pie shop and baking and reaching a level of happiness that had _nothing_ to do with whether or not she had a man in her life, Arya knew that those were things Sansa wanted and had always wanted.

And as Sansa’s sister, Arya could only hope that whoever this man Sans was going out with tonight was feeling just as manic as he got himself ready.

…

Sansa’s stomach was clenched, almost painfully, and remained that way as she went down the stairs and met Jon on the sidewalk after he hit her flat’s buzzer to let her know that he was outside. He had picked her up right at six as he said he would. Sansa noted that he seemed to like being prompt.

He was wearing grey slacks and a black sweater and his black hair was worn loose. He smiled as soon as she opened the bottom door and he saw her.

“Wow,” he exhaled on a breath and Sansa’s stomach remained clenched but she blushed happily at that.

She hadn’t been sure what kind of restaurant Sweet Beets was but she went on the website to do some research and she decided that this was a date and there was nothing wrong with getting a little dressed up. The navy blue sweater dress was simple but flattering and she wore her hair down. She paired it off with a pair of simple black ballet flats. She _did_ feel pretty so she was glad that Jon seemed to agree.

“You, too,” she complimented with a smile.

“Thank you,” Jon chuckled a little at that. “Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Sansa all but exclaimed. “I was looking over the restaurant and this place looks so good.”

“Even though it’s a neighborhood restaurant, I’ve only been there one other time,” Jon said as they began walking down the sidewalk. “It _is_ very good though. They have sharing plates so if you’ve already decided what you want, that’ll work for me, too.”

“No,” she instantly shook her head at that. “If they’re sharing plates, _we’ll_ both decide what we want.”

Jon smiled at that and Sansa smiled, too, She was so tempted to take his hand just then but she didn’t. He might have asked her out for dinner but she had no idea if he wanted to hold her hand and it would be mortifying if she reached for his hand and he didn’t want hers. She would at least like to eat first before she completely mortified herself.

The business district of Winterfell was small – like the rest of their town. A few years ago, the city council had passed a referendum that had then gone onto a ballot for the citizens to vote on and it had passed with an overwhelming majority. Big box stores were not allowed within city perimeters. There was a Target built right outside but other than that, everything else was independently owned. If a person wished to go to a Wal-Mart or a store like that, they had to be prepared to drive to one.

Winterfell liked to encourage entrepreneurship and competing with the massive chains would not help.

Sansa now looked at the businesses they passed – some still open, others closed. She had grown up in Winterfell and was familiar with most of them. Clothing boutiques, a florist, hair salon, a barbershop, two book stores, a wood craftsman shop with some very impressive wood carvings of animals in the storefront window, a coffee shop and Sweet Beets.

On the sidewalk, they had a black railing built in front of the restaurant with four tables situated within the patio. The front doors were open, allowing the cool fall breeze to blow inside.

Her heart fluttered in the base of her throat as Jon’s hand came to rest on the small of her back and he guided her through the doors to the hostess stand.

“Reservation for Snow,” Jon told the woman working.

The woman checked her computer screen and then looked at them with a smile as she took two menus. “Right this way, please,” she beckoned them to follow and led them into the restaurant.

Sansa was silently relieved at that. It was a bit too cool out that evening to eat outside. Maybe she and Jon could come back here in a warmer month. (Well, _that_ was jumping ahead, Sansa, she told herself.)

The restaurant was small – intimate – with dark wood tables and matching chairs and each one had a small white, unscented candle flickering in the middle, creating a warm glow throughout the entire restaurant.

They were shown to a table for two and Jon held her chair out for her. Her stomach still hadn’t unclenched and her heart was still fluttering as she smiled up at him. Jon sat down across from her and they had both just opened their menus when their waitress appeared.

“Can I start you with something to drink?” She asked.

Jon looked to Sansa. “Wine?” He offered.

“That sounds great,” Sansa nodded. “You choose. I don’t know enough about it.”

Jon gave her a small smile and then took a moment to study the wine selection. “We’ll take a glass each of the Pinot Noir – The Calling,” he ordered.

Sansa immediately sought it out on the menu. _Our boldest, darkest pinot with classic sage and black raspberry notes; drinks like silk_.

“Good?” Jon asked her.

“Very good,” Sansa nodded and smiled at him from over the table.

“When you looked at the menu earlier, what did you want to get?” He asked.

“I told you that we have to decide together, Jon.”

“Just show me what you were looking at. I already trust your taste. Someone who bakes pies like you has an amazing palate so I know I’ll like what you’ve chosen.”

And it wasn’t the greatest compliment a man could give a woman and yet, Jon telling her that he trusted her palate, that meant so much to her; she couldn’t even explain it. On their first few dates, Harry had chosen things for her and had ordered for her and at the time, Sansa had loved that he had taken charge like that but now, having Jon rely on her to pick things for the both of them, this was so much better, she decided.

“So, the bacon lemon scallops over frizzled kale, the baked gruyere cheese over baked beet wedges – I thought we _should_ get something with beets here – and the lemon curd ricotta cake with lavender crust for dessert,” she said, finding each item on the menu. “I have to get dessert every time I’m at a restaurant.”

“I almost never get it,” Jon admitted.

“First a cake rather than a pie person and now, no dessert at restaurants?” Sansa teased. “Who are you?”

Jon broke into a grin at that and it only made her laugh.

“I like ice cream. A lot,” he then began to explain. “Practically a fifth food group of mine. I usually have a bowl every night so I skip desserts at restaurants because mine is in the freezer at home.”

“So no lemon curd ricotta cake?” She smiled.

“No, we’re definitely getting that. I need to eat dessert with a dessert person,” he said and she laughed. “And everything you picked sounds amazing. Gruyere cheese is my favorite.”

Sansa looked at him then; as if that was one of the best things she had ever heard – which was slightly ridiculous because gruyere cheese was one of the more popular, well-known cheeses, but still…

“Mine, too,” she told him.

Across the table, with the candlelight flickering in their eyes, Jon looked at her as if that was one of the most amazing things he had ever heard. Sansa expected her stomach to stay clenched for the rest of the evening.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I'm so glad I'm not boring a lot of you with my sweet, simple love story.


	5. The Same Page

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50294644316/in/dateposted/)

…

Their food arrived and Jon waited for Sansa to help herself first and he smiled as he watched her. Sansa wasn’t afraid of food and she wasn’t afraid to eat in front of him.

He once dated a girl who only ate exactly half of whatever she ordered. Every single time, no matter where Jon took her, only half. She then would refrain from getting the other half boxed up to take home so Jon would get it boxed up and take it home himself. Even if he didn’t want it, he had roommates and he hated the idea of so much food going to waste.

He had finally asked her why she did that and she had only shrugged. “This is how I eat, Jon,” she answered and the tone in which she used to do so made Jon feel like he was stupid for having asked.

Sometimes, he and Grenn, Ygritte and Edd would go to all-you-can-eat buffets and sometimes, Ygritte would eat more than Grenn; quite an impressive feat. And it sounded weird but Jon would watch her eat with no apologies or fear of doing such a thing in front of guys and he thought how he wanted a girl like that for himself. He loved food. Preparing it, cooking it, _eating_ it and he wanted a girl in his life who felt the same.

He watched Sansa now and he _had_ to smile because she was smiling and looking so excited at the plates of delicious food in front of them. In addition to the bacon scallops and baked beets, they had also decided to get a portion of the smoked chicken with sun-dried cherries and fontina cheese flatbreads.

Sansa laughed as she scooped some beets onto her plate but a long strand of gruyere pulled between the beets still on the shared plate and her fork. Jon didn’t think about it; whether he should or not. He reached over and with his fingers, he pulled on the long strand of cheese, breaking it and bringing it to his mouth. Sansa just laughed and Jon smiled at her. She pushed the food closer to him so Jon could help himself and for the first minute or so, neither spoke. They were too occupied with eating and both moaning as they did.

“This is so, so good,” Sansa said as she cut into one of her scallops.

Jon was too busy chewing but he nodded his head in complete agreement. Sansa ate for another moment and then she seemed to want to take a break, putting her fork down and picking up her wine glass.

“Are you from Winterfell?” She asked.

Again, he was chewing and she smiled as she watched him and waited. He tried to do it as quickly as he could without choking himself. _That_ would make this a memorable first date.

“My mom grew up here but she moved away for college and settled over in Essos for quite a while. I was born over there and we lived there until my mom got transferred back here for her company. I was fifteen.”

“I was wondering only because you look _very_ Northern,” she said almost with a shy smile as if she was embarrassed to be saying such a thing to him but Jon was pleased that she had noticed. He was proud of his Northern looks; inherited completely from his mom and her side of the family.

Unless… was looking too Northern not a good thing in Sansa’s opinion? What if she didn’t prefer that look?

“I also was wondering because if we went to school together, I definitely would have remembered you,” Sansa added and in the candlelight, Jon saw her face’s blush. “You didn’t go to private school, did you?”

Jon smiled and shook his head. “Public. I take it that you went to private school?”

Sansa smiled, too, and nodded. She didn’t look embarrassed by that and he liked that. He had met people of all sorts and if they grew up poor or grew up more privileged, they always seemed hesitant to admit either; as if the way there was any reason to be ashamed of it. Sansa though went to private school and she owned it because that was part of who she was.

“It was just one of those things my parents decided they wanted to do if they had kids and my dad worked hard to afford it.” She took another sip of wine and then picked up her fork and knife again. She cut a beet in half. “Is it just you and your mom?”

“It is.” Now this would be Jon’s turn to be embarrassed but he wasn’t. His mom was strong and amazing and he would _never_ be embarrassed about his family or the way he grew up. “My mom had me when she was nineteen, had to pause college for a couple of years and then went back so she could finish.”

Sansa was looking at him – only him – and listening to every word. And with her attention so focused on him, it made Jon want to keep talking.

“I obviously don’t remember because I was a baby but my mom wasn’t able to find a sitter for me and she asked her professor if she could bring me to class with her. It was during my naptime so it should have been fine. The professor had no issue with it but I decided to wake up and start making a fuss. My mom was ready to take me and leave class but instead, the professor picked me up from my carrier and held me for the rest of the class as he kept teaching so my mom could stay. Someone actually took a picture of it and it was on the school’s literature for a long time after that,” Jon told her the story and Sansa’s smile grew the more she heard. Jon smiled, too. “The University of Myr: Where our staff goes above and beyond for you.”

“I have to see this,” Sansa said and she pulled her phone from her purse.

Jon took a bite of his flatbread as Sansa searched the web for the picture. She found it in no time.

“This is one of the cutest things I have _ever_ seen,” she beamed down at her phone. Jon just smiled and Sansa lifted her eyes to look at him. “I’ve never been to Myr,” she then said as she set her phone aside and picked up her knife and fork again.

“Winterfell is my home but Myr is, too. The two are probably _complete_ opposites.”

Sansa was quite for a moment, thinking. “The eastern shore on the Sea of Myrth, right?”

“That’s right,” he smiled and so did she. “My mother actually has a second home there. Just a little cottage by the sea. She’ll go there when she just needs a bit of time to herself or if her company needs her back in Essos for something or other.”

“Do you ever go back?” She wondered.

“I try at least once a year. It’s hard with the shop… I have a hard time leaving Grenn in charge. Not that I think Grenn can’t handle it or he’s incompetent. It’s just… hard.”

“I understand,” Sansa nodded, pausing to eat another piece of scallop. “Even if I had a fellow baking partner in the shop, it’d be hard for me to leave them with it.”

Jon set his utensils down and picked up his wine glass for a sip. “Are you from Winterfell?”

“I am,” Sansa answered. “Born and raised. I went to King’s Landing for culinary school but then I came right back. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I used to think I wanted that but then when I was gone, all I wanted was to back home.”

“Family?”

“Well, you met my grandpa and you know about my mom. There’s my dad. My grandpa Hoster lives with him, helping him out. After my mom… dad has needed a little help with some things.” She fell quiet for a moment at that – as if thinking of what exactly she meant but Jon wasn’t going to ask. She then looked back to Jon and gave a small smile. He was sure to give her one back. “And then I have my older brother, Robb, my younger sister, Arya, and then Bran is after her and Rickon is the youngest.”

“Big family,” Jon commented and immediately felt like an idiot. _Obviously, Snow_ , he frowned at himself.

Sansa’s smile grew. “Obviously, we drive each other absolutely insane but we’re all quite close. Especially after my mom. Sunday dinner every week and no excuses are allowed. Robb is in the far North and even he has to come back for it twice a month.”

“That sounds great,” Jon said. “I’m so busy with the shop and my mom travels a lot for her work so it’s a success if we can see each other a couple of times a month.”

“Well, now that my grandpa has met you, I can almost promise you that you _will_ be invited to a Sunday dinner if you would want to subject yourself to that.”

“Only if you would want me there,” Jon said without pausing to think of another answer.

Sansa looked at him and she was already smiling but it grew across her face. Jon already wondered if there would be a time when she would smile at him and he _wouldn’t_ smile in response. Tonight certainly wasn’t the time and Jon smiled now at the sight of hers.

…

The waitress returned as they were finishing their meal and asked if they would like another glass of wine. Jon saw the subtle hand she put over the top of her glass and Jon looked to the waitress.

“Can we have two coffees and a piece of the lemon curd ricotta cake for dessert?” He ordered. It was only when the waitress was gone again did he realize what he had done and he looked to Sansa, almost too embarrassed to do so. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Sorry about what?”

“Ordering for us. I don’t want you to think that I think you can’t order for yourself.”

He didn’t want to come across as controlling and even if it might be considered as being a gentleman, this wasn’t a black-and-white movie from the 40s. He didn’t know how Sansa would feel about that.

But Sansa was looking at him and smiling and she didn’t seem angry or insulted at all. “That was exactly what I wanted,” she let him know and Jon felt himself relax in his chair, not even realizing he had been tense. “What’s your favorite TV show?” She then asked.

The question made him go back to smiling. “Okay, but you can’t judge me.”

She laughed. “I promise I won’t judge you.”

“ _Trailer Park Boys_. My roommates and I, when we all have time together, we’ll watch it for four hours without even realizing it.”

“Oh God,” Sansa moaned while laughing. “You and my brothers, Bran and Rickon, are best friends already and don’t even realize it.”

“Yeah?” He perked up a bit.

“I swear, that’s the only thing they watch with their Netflix account.”

“Maybe they can come to the next marathon my roommates and I have,” Jon suggested. Sansa just laughed and groaned again and Jon grinned. “What’s your favorite TV show?” He asked.

“ _New Girl_ ,” she answered. “And if you’ve never seen it, we’re having a four-hour marathon of it.”

If she meant it to be something that sounded like it would be torture to Jon, she had another thing coming because watching four hours of _anything_ with Sansa sounded like just about the best way he could ever spend his time.

“Name the time and place,” Jon responded to that.

The waitress returned with their coffees and cake before Sansa could answer but Jon liked to assume that Sansa’s answer would have been a good one.

…

(Jon had already considered the dinner date a complete success but just in case he had been unsure, they ate absolutely everything on their shared plates and didn’t need any carryout boxes.)

…

It was completely dark outside when Jon paid their bill and they left Sweet Beets. Almost all of the shops on their street were closed now and the lamp posts were lighting the sidewalks in warm, yellow circles every foot. It was a quiet night – peaceful – and the temperature had dropped a bit more.

“Thank you, Jon. That was so, so delicious,” Sansa was smiling and it felt like she was humming with energy.

“I’m really glad you liked it. Thank you for eating.”

Sansa gave him an odd look for that but Jon just shrugged.

They began walking down the sidewalk, back towards her pie shop, and Jon told himself that he should take her hand. He had wanted to take her hand when they had walked here but he had talked himself out of it. They hadn’t known one another that well yet – not as well as he wanted – and it was only their first date. What if he had taken her hand and she hadn’t wanted him to? What if they were both embarrassed and the dinner had been completely awkward and ruined?

Well, Jon hadn’t taken her hand and dinner hadn’t been completely awkward and ruined. In fact, it had been the best first date dinner he had ever had and looking at Sansa now, walking at his side, she seemed to be thinking the same thing.

_Take her hand, Jon. Take her hand now._

So Jon did just that. He first brushed his hand against hers; just to see what she would do. If she moved her hand out of his reach, message received and he wouldn’t try to take it. But when he brushed it, feeling her skin with his knuckles, Sansa looked at him with the softest smile.

Well that was that. Without pausing any further, Jon took hold of her hand and Sansa was the one to lace their fingers together.

She stopped suddenly underneath the green awning of a closed art gallery and she pulled him to a stop, too. For a moment, Jon thought he had done something wrong but she was still holding his hand and she pulled him in close to her. Standing with their chests together and their faces so close – how had their faces gotten this close, Jon wondered – their eyes were nearly even. A streetlamp was behind him and his body blocked most of the light but some of it shone onto her face. Sansa lifted her hands, slowly sliding them up his chest and Jon stared at her, his heart stopping in his chest.

  
“Jon,” she said softly.

  
And hearing her say his name, he couldn’t stop. If he was completely wrong and she slapped him, she slapped him but Jon didn’t think he was wrong. He thought – he _knew_ – he was reading her right.

He surged forward and his lips met hers, pressing almost immediately too hard against hers. Sansa certainly didn’t seem to mind and her hands left his chest to find his hair, fingers tunneling through the curly locks, and he was glad he had worn his hair loose tonight.

Jon’s mouth opened, prompting hers to do the same, and his arms wrapped around her, hauling her tightly against his body, when he heard her moan in response to his tongue swirling around hers. That moan was one of the best things he had ever heard and he tried in earnest to draw another one out from her.

Her fingers gripped his hair and his beard scratched the delicate skin of her face and her tongue met the slow head-spinning dance that he was setting. He was kissing her as if he had waited _years_ to kiss her just like this. He was kissing her like he was about to lose her mind and she was the only thing he could hold onto in order to keep his sanity. And just like that, Sansa became the only thing he ever wanted to taste again in his life.

But then Sansa pressed her hips to his and he couldn’t help but hiss.

She had to have felt his erection. There was no way she hadn’t.

Slowly, Sansa pulled her lips from his. Jon felt his heart hammering in his chest and he opened his eyes, wanting to smile when he watched as it took her another minute for her own eyes to open. When she looked at him, they both smiled.

“Sorry about that,” he said softly but his panting was heavy as he caught his breath.

“For kissing me?” Her lips began to pull down into a frown.

“Gods, no,” Jon rushed out before she could think of that for another moment. “For… _that_.” He lowered his eyes just enough for her to understand what he was talking about and in the half-light, he saw her blush.

“How ridiculous would you think I am if I tell you that I’m slightly flattered?” She said and she was smiling as if she was joking but there was also a sincerity in her eyes.

“Hey. You earned it,” Jon teased back and he would never think of saying something that crude but it slipped from his mouth before he could stop and he then smiled as she laughed. He kept his arms around her – he couldn’t seem to bring himself to drop them away – and Sansa wasn’t squirming as if she wished he would. “I don’t want you to think that I’m some pervert who this always happens to,” he then had to tell her.

“I know, Jon,” Sansa said softly with a matching soft smile. She gave him another kiss then – soft and gentle; short. “I’m not ready for that though.”

“Me neither,” Jon was quick to agree.

He wouldn’t argue, of course, if that was what she wanted but he was completely fine with waiting. More than fine. This had only been their first date – the first of many – and there wasn’t a single part of himself expecting Sansa and him to fall in bed together tonight.

There would be plenty of time for that. He didn’t doubt it.

Jon was the one to lean in for another soft – short – kiss. “Can I walk you home?” He asked.

She looked so relieved that he seemed to be on the same exact page as her and she exhaled a deep breath, her smile back on her face, and she nodded.

This time, when Jon took her hand, he was the one to lace their fingers together.

…

Arriving back home to his flat, Ghost was right at the door as if he had been sleeping there all evening, waiting for him. Like Lady, Ghost was a malamute but Ghost was rare in that he was completely white – hence his name.

“Quick walk, yeah?” Jon grabbed Ghost’s leash and the dog waited patiently as Jon hooked it to his collar even as his tail wagged excitedly.

A quick walk was just once around the block. Tomorrow – Sunday – Jon always took Ghost to the park for a few hours of running, playing and lounging on a blanket. Ghost was a good dog and Jon always felt guilty that he was cooped up in their flat so much but Ghost didn’t seem to complain though Jon knew that Sunday were the dog’s favorite days.

Maybe, tomorrow, Jon would ask Sansa if she and Lady would like to join them before her family dinner. 

Back upstairs, he unhooked Ghost and went into his bedroom – the first door right off the hall. When they had all moved in, neither Grenn nor Edd had wanted this room.

“If someone breaks in, you’ll be the first they chop up, mate, sleeping that close to the door,” Edd said.

Three years later, it hadn’t happened yet and Jon got himself the biggest room in the flat.

He changed into black flannel pajama pants and a green University of Myr tee-shirt and after making a detour in the bathroom to brush his teeth, he went into the living room. The television was on, muted on an episode of _Chopped_ on the Food Network. Ygritte, also in her pajamas, was sitting on the couch, her feet against the coffee table and a pile of papers against her thighs. She had a red marker in her hand.

“Hey,” she smiled at him as he collapsed next to her, making sure he didn’t disturb the other piles of papers she had on the couch cushion between them.

“Hey. How’s it going?” He asked.

Ygritte taught seventh and eighth grade science and weekends were dedicated to grading mounds of student worksheets, lab reports, quizzes and tests. This weekend, it was seventh grade anatomy worksheets and eighth grade cell mitosis and meiosis quizzes. Some wouldn’t think she would make a good teacher. She could, at times, seem too brash and almost too harsh at times but actually, that’s what made her a great teacher. She loved what she taught and she didn’t put up with nonsense. And because she loved what she taught, she wanted every one of her students to love it, too.

“I tell myself that they actually listen to me but then I grade their things and I think I might actually be teaching them in Valyrian and no one has told me yet.”

Jon smiled at that and his eyes settled on the television, keeping it on mute. “Grenn asleep?” He asked. He didn’t ask about Edd. Edd owned a small pub on their street and Saturday night was a busy night for him. He usually was gone until at least three o’clock in the morning.

“After the things I did to him tonight? He is passed out,” Ygritte smiled. “So?”

“So?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Where are the carryout boxes? I’m starving.”

Jon smiled, looking back to the television. “There weren’t any. We ate everything.”

“Whoa,” Ygritte responded to that. Jon just kept smiling. “So she could be a keeper, huh?”

He thought of that kiss under the awning of the art gallery and holding her hand and before that, he thought of dinner and talking and eating. He thought of walking her to her door and kissing her good night. He thought how he had just seen Sansa not even an hour ago and already, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

Jon gave a single nod and his eyes stayed on the screen though he really wasn’t watching anything; his mind too consumed with Sansa. He wondered what her pajamas were. “She is.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dog park and Stark Sunday dinner coming up! Thank you so, so much for reading!


	6. A Walk in the Park

…

The next morning, Sansa was actually still full from her dinner with Jon but she still fixed herself two pieces of toast smeared with raspberry jam and a small pot of coffee to have for breakfast. She handed Lady a fresh bone from the canister she had on the counter and, with Lady trotting into the living room, Sansa went after her, curling herself up on the couch.

She sipped her coffee and ate her toast and looked out the window. It was a beautiful early fall day and she had absolutely nothing to do except Sunday dinner with the family later. She could do laundry and clean up a bit here. She remembered what Jon had said about his days off and Sansa supposed she could sleep some more. She had to get up so early every morning to bake her pies, a bit of a sleep in might be quite nice.

She wondered if she could call Jon. Would he mind? They had just seen one another last night and Sansa knew that on his day off from the butcher shop, he slept, did laundry and did any shopping he needed to do. Maybe Sansa should leave him alone to allow him to spend his day off like he always did. Yes, last night had been the most perfect first date she had ever been on and that kiss. _That. Kiss._ Hours later and Sansa could still feel it on her lips and the gentle scratch of his beard on her face.

But still, Sansa knew how early he got up every morning and how many hours he worked. Running a butcher shop – or any shop – was exhausting work and days off were cherished. Sansa didn’t want to interrupt his.

She finished her toast and leaned forward, sliding the plate onto the coffee plate. Lady took her bone and jumped up onto the couch so she could chew it at Sansa’s side. Sansa scratched her behind her ear and sipped her cup of coffee, turning her head again to look out the window.

She missed her mom.

Every single day, she missed Catelyn and if she was still alive, Sansa would call her right about now – just to see how she was and if she and dad did anything on their Saturday night; what was for dinner that Sunday. She would also tell her mom all about the date with Jon. She would probably tone down their kiss but she would tell her everything else; how good the food it was, how much of a gentleman Jon was, and how amazing the whole night had been. Sansa had had a few first dates since she began dating when in high school and there had never been a date like what she had last night with Jon.

With Jon last night, it hadn’t felt like their first date. Conversation had flowed and never once had there been a moment of awkwardness passing between them. Sansa was as relaxed as if she and Jon had been dating for a much longer time. She had never felt that with any of her other boyfriends.

Sansa would be sure that she would tell Catelyn that last night, she had _liked_ everything about it because she knew how important it was to Catelyn that Sansa liked things and not just loved them.

Yes, dinner and that kiss with Jon, Sansa had all liked it very much.

Right now, she wished she could pick up the phone and tell her mom all about it.

She was jolted from her thoughts when her cell phone began to ring and for half a second, her heart raced and she actually forgot that it wouldn’t be her mom. Catelyn was still gone and whoever was calling her – when Sansa had been just thinking about it – it wasn’t Catelyn.

Leaning forward, she grabbed her cellphone and smiled the instant she saw the name. She wondered what he would think if she asked to take his picture to put with his name.

“I was just thinking about you,” she said in form of answering, not embarrassed by possibly being too forward. _He_ was the one to call her eight hours after they parted.

“You were?” From the other end, Jon was smiling and clearly pleased with her words.

“I was imagining of telling my mom about you.” She smiled faintly and took a sip of her coffee.

Jon kept on smiling. “I know you have your family dinner tonight but I was wondering if you were planning on doing anything else today.”

“I was actually thinking about how you spend your days off and sleeping sounded very good to me.”

“Oh, well, I don’t want to bother you if you want to get some sleep.”

“You’re not bothering me, Jon. What are you up to today?”

“Well, I promised Ghost I would take him to the park today for a couple hours and I was wondering if you and Lady would like to join us. I know Ghost would love to meet you and you mentioned a play date for these two, but like I said, if you want to sleep, we can always plan it for another Sunday.”

“How soon do you need me to be ready by?” Sansa asked, already standing up to take her coffee cup into the kitchen, glancing to the clock on the microwave as she did. Just a few minutes after nine.

“I have a couple things to do around here. Would eleven work?”

“I will be ready,” Sansa promised him and she swore she could hear Jon’s smile only grow bigger.

…

At eleven on the dot, Sansa and Lady waited on the sidewalk outside of the pie shop and she saw Jon and Ghost coming their way down the sidewalk. Freshly showered, she had styled her hair in a simple French braid and wore skinny jeans, a pair of black boots and a black and white sweater. She also wore a navy blue field jacket – the last thing her mom bought for her on their last shopping trip before Catelyn had gotten too sick to leave the house.

Jon smiled the instant he saw her and Sansa practically beamed. Lady saw Jon and began wagging her tail quickly, having been sitting but she now got on all four legs. Sansa understood her dog’s excitement at seeing him. She was feeling the same.

In jeans and boots himself, he was also wearing a red and black flannel shirt and a puffy black sleeveless vest. Today, his hair was pulled back in a knot and she had the strongest urge to lift a hand and rub his beard.

She then looked to Ghost, trotting at his side. “Oh, he’s beautiful!” She exclaimed. “I’ve never seen an all-white Malamute!” She crouched down and Ghost seemed to know exactly who she was. Sansa wondered if Jon had told Ghost about her. “You are so beautiful, Ghost.” She scratched him behind both ears and Ghost’s tail was wagging as fast as Lady’s as he sniffed Sansa all over.

Turning her head, she saw that Jon was giving Lady the same kind of greeting as well.

“I like your ribbons, Lady,” Jon smiled as he fingered the ribbons on Lady’s collar. “What’s this?” He then took note of the bag on the sidewalk next to Sansa.

“That’s a surprise,” Sansa answered, also smiling, as they both stood up.

“A surprise?” Jon was instantly intrigued.

“Not until the park,” she then added.

Jon just kept on smiling – as if he couldn’t stop – and Sansa knew exactly how he felt.

“I haven’t said hi yet,” Jon then realized, making Sansa laugh. “Hi,” he said, lifting his hands to her cheeks.

Sansa was still smiling when he leaned in and kissed her.

…

The park was just a couple of blocks from their street – a large rectangular community park situated between two residential streets. There was a baseball diamond at one far end and at the other far end, a skateboard park. There was a basketball court that could double as a tennis court, a playground and a water area with various fountains and sprinklers for children to run through in the warm months. There was also a walking and bicycle path that went around the entire thing.

Jon and Sansa found a spot in the grass near a pear tree. He pulled a tennis ball from his vest pocket and chucked it through the air, both dogs tearing off after it.

He then looked back to Sansa. “Need any help?” He offered.

Sansa unzipped the bag and pulled out a blanket. She held it out towards Jon and he took it, smiling, and unfolding it, he shook it and spread it out. Sansa then began pulling out plastic containers.

“How did you do all of this in two hours?” Jon asked as he knelt down to help.

“I actually had all of this food in my place. I just threw a few things together,” Sansa said.

Ghost returned with the tennis ball in his mouth, Lady trotting behind, and he dropped it down at Jon’s side. Jon picked it up and chucked it the opposite way, both dogs, again, running off after it, almost knocking down a woman and her Pomeranian in the process.

“You just happened to have French bread, salami, and provolone cheese in your place?” Jon asked, sniffing at one of the containers.

“Don’t you?” Sansa beamed and Jon grinned. “There’s also a spicy mustard on the sandwiches. I hope you like it. So, I have sandwiches, radishes and cauliflower with vegetable dip, macaroni salad and-”

“Dessert?”

“Of course dessert,” she laughed. She pulled out the final container. “So, I make dessert for Sunday dinner and I stole two slices of this. It’s one of those things my family goes nuts for. It’s a peanut butter pie with a crushed pretzel crust. It’s super easy to make so I feel no guilt in taking two slices for us ahead of time.”

She smiled as Jon took the container from her and lifting the corner of the container, he inhaled.

“Oh my God,” he practically moaned. Sansa laughed, pleased.

“The only thing I don’t have is drinks,” she said.

This time, Lady had the ball and dropped it. Jon chucked it yet again and the dogs went running.

Jon stood up, pulling his wallet out. “Wait here,” he said just in case she was thinking of leaving. Sansa watched as he crossed the grass towards a small building where the public bathrooms were. A row of vending machines were against the wall and Sansa watched Jon walk towards the soda one.

It was a cool day – the perfect fall day just as she expected it to be – and the sun was bright and warm. She turned and saw Ghost and Lady nipping at one another playfully as they fought for the ball and she looked around the park, at the others enjoying their late mornings of leisure, and she then looked back to Jon. He was coming back across the grass, two cans of soda in his hands.

Just at the sight of him, Sansa smiled.

Yes, she liked absolutely everything about this.

…

Jon had polished off his sandwich and half of the macaroni salad and was now diving into the vegetables and dip. Sansa was laying on her stomach, her legs kicked up behind her, propped on her elbows, as she ate her portion of macaroni salad. Lady laid, stretched out next to her, chewing the bone Sansa had packed for her, and Ghost had trotted a few feet away, looking for the perfect tree to relieve himself on.

“Radishes isn’t a vegetable I think of,” Jon said as he plucked one up and dipped it into the dip.

“Why not?” Sansa smiled.

“I don’t know. I guess because there’s so many other vegetables.”

Sansa laughed because his explanation was slightly ridiculous. “I guess that’s why I like them so much. Radishes and cauliflower are my favorite vegetables because they are so easily forgotten.”

Jon grinned, knowing that she was teasing him, but he didn’t seem to mind. He took a bite of the radish and Sansa finished her macaroni salad, sitting up to put the now empty container back into the bag.

“Last night, after getting myself and Lady all settled for bed, you will not guess what I did.” Sansa reached over and took a piece of cauliflower for herself. “I watched _Trailer Park Boys_ clips on YouTube.”

He let out a laugh at that – sudden and echoing in the air. “You did not.”

“I did. And you know what I learned? It is a really stupid, stupid show,” she informed him, completely solemn, and Jon was chewing a bite of radish so he couldn’t laugh but he snorted, obviously wanting to. “And I decided that whenever we can, as _soon_ as we can, we’re having a _New Girl_ marathon.”

Jon swallowed before leaning in and kissing her. She liked – very much – that Jon kept kissing her. She had thought that maybe there would be a slight hesitancy despite having kissed last night. Maybe neither would be certain if the other wanted to kiss again but Jon just seemed to know that Sansa wanted him to kiss her because he kept doing it and she liked it. She liked it very much.

…

They stayed in the park for a couple of hours before Sansa had to get back so she could go to her dad’s. Ghost and Lady trotted ahead and Jon carried the bag in one hand as he held Sansa’s with his other.

“Can we do this again?” Sansa asked.

“We definitely will. Will you pack another picnic?” Jon asked her with a smile and it made her laugh. 

“Yes, Jon.”

“Grenn’s been trying to get me to join a gym and I keep blowing him off. I might have to check it out if I keep eating like this.”

“We only live once,” Sansa shrugged. “I prefer to spend my one life eating and enjoying good food. My mom, before she lost the strength to eat, the very last food she wanted to taste on her tongue wasn’t fat free or low calorie.”

“What was it?” He asked curiously.

“Fried eggs, French toast and bacon with a side of strawberry pie,” Sansa said and it made her smile a little; not the thought of her mom’s last meal but because they had made such a breakfast feast for her and the entire family ate with her until they were all stuffed. They all knew Catelyn had been dying but for those few hours as they all ate breakfast at four o’clock in the afternoon on a Tuesday, none of them thought of it.

“Can I… I don’t want to pry…” he began to say; struggling with finding the words to a question he wanted to ask and Sansa already knew what that question was.

“Glioblastoma brain tumor. One of the worst there is,” she answered.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“But I am. I can’t even imagine not having my mom.”

“I don’t want to say it’s something a person gets used to. I miss her every single day, but… there’s nothing to do except keep going.” Thoughts of Catelyn flooded her mind but then she looked to Jon, focusing on him, giving him a small smile. “I think she would have liked you.”

Jon seemed to stand a little straighter at that. “Yeah?” He began to smile as if that pleased him. A lot. And his smile made Sansa’s smile grow a little in size.

“She wanted all of her children to find good, kind people. She would have been impressed that you own your own business and work so hard.”

“What does your dad do?” Jon asked.

“He is a specialty pharmaceutical sales representative,” Sansa recited. “Or as my siblings say, he’s a legal drug pusher,” she let out a slight laugh and Jon smiled at that. “What does your mom do?”

“Myr has dozens of wineries and she actually is a sales rep, too, for _Myrmen Wine_.”

Sansa found herself smiling at Jon’s answer but she didn’t tell him why. She liked that their parents had something in common. Yes, both sold two very different things but they were both in sales and it was like her and Jon. They owned two different kind of shops but there was that camaraderie from something closely related. Maybe her dad and Jon’s mom, when they met, would have things to talk about.

(She wasn’t going to correct herself and say _if_ her dad and Jon’s mom met. She knew they would meet.)

She remembered her parents and Harry’s parents anytime they were together. They had quickly discovered they had next to nothing in common and Catelyn had always done her best to fill in the silences but few topics were actually able to make a conversation between them all. Catelyn was a stay-at-home wife and mother and Harry’s mother worked for a city developer. Harry’s dad was a judge. Harry was also an only child. The parents learned that the only thing they had in common was that their children were dating.

Both her dad and Jon’s mom being in sales was _something_.

Sansa looked to Jon now as they slowed down, coming upon her shop, and she was so tempted to invite him to Sunday dinner tonight to meet her family but she knew it was too soon for that.

They had just met that week. They had just had their first date and were still getting to know one another.

Maybe she’d ask him next Sunday.

…

As soon as Sansa pulled in front of her parents’ house – it would always be her parents’ house and not just her dad’s – she knew something was wrong. Bran came outside to meet her before she could even turn off the engine. He came to her car and opened the backdoor to let Lady out from the backseat and Sansa got out from behind the wheel.

“What’s going on?” Sansa asked, coming around the car to her brother.

Bran looked back to the house, as if he was making sure no one else had followed him out, before looking to Sansa. “Rickon got in trouble at school, Grandpa tried to ground him, dad said Rickon is just missing mom and shouldn’t be punished for that and now, dad’s in his and mom’s room and won’t come out.”

Sansa looked up at the house, Bran’s words settling in her mind, and she took a deep breath. This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened since mom died and it wouldn’t be the last. Unfortunately. Rickon kept getting in trouble, Grandpa kept trying to discipline him and dad just didn’t have the heart to.

She was glad she hadn’t brought Jon with her. Today didn’t seem like the best day for the Stark family.

“Alright,” she exhaled again and then looked at Bran, managing a smile. She put an arm around his shoulders and together, they began walking back towards the house. “Is Arya here yet?” She asked.

“Not yet but she’s on the way.”

She knew Robb wouldn’t be there this week. He was coming next week so today, Sansa would take charge.

“Is there anything planned for dinner? Where’s Grandpa now?”

“Grandpa went down to the VFW post for a drink but he said he’d come back in a little bit. Dad was defrosting a pork loin but nothing’s been done yet. I was going through mom’s cookbooks, trying to figure out what to do with it. ”

Sansa smiled at him for that. “Alright. We’ll figure out something to do with it, together, and I’ll try and talk to dad. Do you have a taste for anything in particular?”

They climbed the porch steps to the front door.

“Peanut butter pie with pretzel crust?”

She laughed and lifted the pie carrier she held in her other hand. “I’m happy to hear that.”

Bran’s eyes gleamed and he licked his lips, taking it from her and carrying it into the house. Inside, her smile faded as she felt the heaviness of the air.

Sansa looked up the stairs – her parents’ bedroom at the top, and as Bran said, the door was closed. She’d go up to talk to her dad and hopefully get him to come out but first, she’d go in the kitchen and figure out what to do with the pork loin because they were still having Sunday family dinner. She wondered if she should text Jon and see if he had any handy recipes.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been kind of taking it easy this week but I missed this story. THANK YOU to those reading and to those who are enjoying it!


	7. Two Turnips in Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The explanation for this chapter title is in the video at the end. *warning - strong language.

…

When Sansa had texted him, Jon hadn’t wanted to give her a recipe that would be unnecessarily difficult but he hadn’t wanted to insult her and give her a recipe that was _too_ easy as if she couldn’t do anything more. In the end, Jon sent her a recipe for his favorite way to prepare a pork loin and a few hours later, Sansa sent him a picture just after she pulled it from the oven.

_S: Does it look alright?_

Jon wished he could be there, to look at the dinner and assure her in person, but he wasn’t. It was too soon to meet her family and be there for their special Sunday dinner. _They_ had just met one another. He hoped, one day, he’d be able to meet the rest of the Starks but today wasn’t the day for that.

Instead, he looked at the picture and smiled, thinking of the perfect thing to say in response.

_J: It looks better than mine ever has._

A moment later, he received another picture and this time, it was of a boy – maybe eighteen or around there – and he was bent down next to the pork loin, his mouth wide open as if he was about to take the biggest bite. Jon grinned when he saw it.

_S: Seal of brother approval! One of the highest compliments!_

He didn’t want to say that he spent the rest of his evening, keeping his phone close, just in case Sansa texted him again or even called but he wasn’t going to deny it if someone accused him of doing just that. He didn’t want to be the one to text or call. She had Sunday dinner with her family _long_ before she even knew Jon Snow existed in the world and if the dinners were anything like the ones he had with his mom when they were able to get together, he understood how important they were and he wouldn’t take away from that.

He hoped her family liked the pork loin recipe he gave. Did Sansa tell them that he had helped? Would she tell her family about him or was it still too new and she didn’t know what to tell them? Meeting her Grandpa Hoster had been completely unplanned but the man hadn’t seemed to hate Jon on sight. Would Hoster mention Jon in front of the others and put Sansa on the spot?

He needed a distraction. He was being ridiculous and he hated himself just a little bit because of it. He and Sansa were something and were starting something between them and they would have plenty of time for all of the other stuff. Worrying about her family was _not_ what he was supposed to be thinking about.

Sunday evenings, he packed it in early. He took Ghost on one last long walk around the neighborhood. He then took a shower and brushed his teeth and trimmed his beard. He then went into his bedroom and with Ghost leaping up and taking his usual spot at the foot, Jon crawled into bed and grabbed whatever book he was in the middle of reading. He made sure his alarm clock was set for three o’clock. That gave him plenty of time to get himself up and ready – and make sure Grenn was doing the same – and their first deliveries began arriving at four. The shop opened at eight and until then, they spent the hours, butchering and cutting and filling their cases, getting prepared for a new day.

It was hard, long work and Sandor retiring made perfect sense to Jon some days. Some days, he felt like packing it in and getting a job at a regular grocery store deli counter where he would work in eight hour shifts and not perform nearly as much bone-breaking work.

But as soon as he had those thoughts, they would disappear again because Gods. He couldn’t imagine himself doing anything less than what he did now. He would die slowly behind a deli counter. It would be easier and less stressful – there was no argument about that – but not doing what he was supposed to do would kill him.

He was in the middle of reading _Dracula_ but it was the third time he was reading it and his eyes were growing heavier, his body and mind well aware of how early they had to get up the next morning. Ghost was already snoring deeply and the rest of his flat mates were tucking themselves in for the night as well, their movements murmured on the other side of Jon’s closed bedroom door.

Just as his eyes were ready to close for the last time before letting sleep completely take him, his phone on the bedside table buzzed and he would admit to no one that his eyes snapped open and he practically dove for it.

_S: Coffee tomorrow morning?_

Jon smiled at the three simple words; three of the best words in the world, in his humble opinion.

_J: Definitely._

_S: I can’t wait. Good night, Jon._

_J: Good night, Sansa._

And almost as soon as he typed those words to her, he set his phone down again and seemed to be asleep within the next minute.

…

Jon took his coffee black and it wasn’t that hard to brew a pot of coffee but he had to be honest. Sansa brewed the best coffee he had ever had.

He knocked on the back door of her shop and a moment later, Sansa appeared, her apron stained with different pie fillings and she had the smallest smudge of flour on the side of her neck. He had to wonder how she got that there. Sansa was beaming at him through the glass door as she unlocked it and Jon pulled it open, stepping inside.

“Good morning,” she said and then leaned in, giving him a kiss. “Coffee?”

“Good morning and yes, please,” he smiled, following her into her office. “Are you done baking?”

“Yep,” she nodded. “I have one last cherry to pull from the oven and then I’m all set. And what about you? Anything on sale today?”

Jon smiled wider as she filled a mug for him. “Two 24-oz Porterhouse Dry Age steaks for $69.99.”

“Will you be insulted if I tell you I just don’t understand your prices?”

He laughed and Sansa seemed to be relieved that he had rather than get angry. He watched her as she fixed her own coffee cup, taking a sip from his. “The finest quality meats butchered to perfection,” he explained.

“I suppose I _should_ understand. That tomahawk steak you cooked is still the best thing I’ve eaten in days.”

“Even better than a pork loin glazed in Dijon mustard and brown sugar?”

That made her laugh. “I can’t even tell you how big of a hit that was with my entire family. My dad usually portions out the leftovers for everyone to take home a fair share but this past Sunday, there were very little of anything left to divide.”

“I’m relieved.” Sansa looked at him curiously for that and he gave a slight shrug. “I’d hate to give you a recipe and your entire family hating it.”

She seemed to melt into a smile at that and leaning over, she gave him a soft kiss. “It was delicious and now, my family wants to meet the brilliant man who gave me the recipe.”

“They want to meet me? You told them about me?”

She laughed a little. “My dad asked if this was a recipe my mom had had because he couldn’t remember it and I said I was seeing a man who knew his way around a pork loin and my grandpa asked if it was you. Of course, once everyone else heard him say that, the interrogation began.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon then said for whatever reason.

“That’s a weird thing to apologize for,” Sansa noted and took a sip of her coffee. “Should I not have mentioned you to them?” She wondered, looking at him curiously. And behind the curiosity, there was a hint of nervousness; that she had just done something horribly wrong in talking about him to her family.

Jon couldn’t have her think that.

He lifted a hand to her cheek and gave her a kiss. “I just didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk about me since we… since this just started between us.”

Sansa looked into his eyes for a moment and a small smile pulled at her lips. “This?” She asked.

“Yeah. This.”

“What should we do about this? Should we call it something or is that too soon?”

“I don’t think it’s too soon,” Jon assured her in case he needed to.

“I don’t think so either,” she agreed. “So… relationship?”

Jon looked into her eyes now as well and he suddenly forgot every single relationship he had ever been. Did it usually move this fast? They had just gone on their first date. Well, he was considering the park yesterday a date so they had already had two dates and when he didn’t see her, he wondered when he could again. Hell, just last night he had kept his phone close in case Sansa texted or called.

“Relationship,” he agreed.

And the smile Sansa gave him at that, she practically shone. Jon had to kiss her again right then. So he did.

“Would you want to come over to my flat after we’re both done for the day?” He asked. “You can bring Lady and you can see where I live and meet my flat mates.”

“That sounds great,” Sansa nodded. “I’ll bring pie.”

…

The girl seemed a little lost and Jon watched her from behind the counter as she looked at all of the meats behind the glass. She actually wasn’t a girl. She was a woman – maybe in her thirties. She just had a very young face. She still looked lost though.

“Can I help you with anything?” Jon finally asked politely once he gave her a moment to look.

The woman lifted her eyes as she seemed a little surprised that he had spoken with her. “Um… do you have pork belly?” She then asked.

“I do.” Jon went to the requested cut of meat and took one from the case, holding the flat slab up for her to see. “It’s four dollars a pound.”

She seemed to study it for a moment. “I don’t know that much about it,” she then admitted even if Jon was already to see that for himself. “I saw them using it on an episode of _Top Chef_ and it looked so delicious, I wanted to see if I could try and make something with pork belly on my own.”

“Of course you can,” Jon said and she smiled at his confidence. “Is it just you or a family?” He asked.

“Just me.”

“Alright. A half belly – two pounds – can serve six to ten and a full belly – five pounds – can serve around 13 to 20 people. In theory. I feel like I can eat a full belly by myself sometimes. Since it’s just you, let’s start with one pound,” Jon suggested and the woman nodded in agreement. “This is also uncured so no seasonings, solutions, salts, water or extenders and it’s unsmoked and unsliced.” Jon knew she probably didn’t understand most of that but she nodded anyway.

“Do you know how to cook it? They always make it look so easy on the show,” she said.

“Don’t forget. They’re professional cooks on that show and don’t care about home cooks. Sometimes, simple is best.” He found a pound slab in the case and carried it over to weigh it. “I have a couple of recipes I can write down if you’d like.”

“That’d be amazing. Thank you so much for everything.”

Jon smiled at her. “I’m going to score this for you. Shallow slices,” he then explained before she thought to ask. “It will help with the marinade you’re going to do.”

The woman exhaled the slightest laugh and she smiled at him. “You are getting the best online review,” she then told him and Jon cracked into a grin at that.

He meant it. He would die a slow death behind a deli counter even if he would get more sleep in life and would not have to worry about balancing accounting books.

…

_Flour Power_ was closed before _The Meat Counter_ so once Jon and Grenn closed and cleaned everything, Jon headed next door to the door on the street that led up to Sansa’s flat. He didn’t tell Grenn that he was bringing Sansa over. It might have been a smart thing to do – maybe prepare the others and make sure nothing too embarrassing was lying around – but he also didn’t want to deal with Grenn’s ribbing.

He hit the buzzer and Sansa seemed to be right there to answer it.

“Coming!” She called out and Jon smiled to himself.

“I didn’t even tell you it was me,” he told her through the speaker. “What if I was a serial killer?”

“Such a polite serial killer to ring the buzzer,” she noted and he chuckled.

Jon looked around the block as he waited on the sidewalk. Some shops were closed or closing down for the day but others still had customers coming in and out. The store on the other side of Sansa’s pie shop was a clothing boutique called _Marmalade_ for whatever reason. It was one of those stores that seemed to have very little inventory and also seemed to only carry one or two sizes. Jon wasn’t a girl but if he was, he had a feeling he would be intimidated to walk into that store.

It was still open and Jon found himself going to the front window to look at the mannequin. Everything inside seemed to be in shades of white, pink and yellow and the mannequin was wearing a pale pink dress with dramatic puff short sleeves.

“Do you have $1200?” Sansa suddenly asked at his side and Jon jumped a little, having not heard her come. He spun his head around to look at her and she smiled as Lady sniffed at his jeans. “I looked at that dress last week. It’s $1200.”

“Why?” Jon blurted out and she laughed.

“Because the woman who owns this store, Ros, makes everything in it by hand. Not sewing machine. _Hand_.”

Jon knew Ros – not well – but they knew one another enough to recognize the other when they saw them. He knew this was her shop but he had no idea that she made all of the clothes; and by hand, too, which apparently was a very big deal. It would explain why there wasn’t that much in the way of inventory.

“Come here,” Sansa said and tied Lady’s leash handle to a bike rack. “I’ll be right back, sweet girl.”

Lady swept her tail as she sat down patiently and taking Jon’s hand, Sansa opened the door to _Marmalade_ and walked in, Jon following behind. Ros was behind the counter in the middle of the store and smiled the instant she saw Sansa and then saw Jon with her.

“Hi! Welcome!” She greeted them both.

“Hi, Ros,” Sansa smiled back. “I was just going to look at your scarves. Again,” she then laughed.

“You know where they are,” Ros waved her hand in the general direction and laughed, too.

Jon followed Sansa as she led them to the front corner where there were some scarves folded on a shelf. She lifted a yellow one as delicately as if she was handling an egg and she then lifted it to Jon’s face.

“Silk and cashmere,” she told him. “And Ros cut and sewed these all, too, by hand.”

That would explain the $99 price tag – for a scarf – but Jon didn’t say that out loud. Instead, he gently pulled his hand from hers and took the scarf, feeling it some more. It really was one of the softest things he had felt when it came to any type of clothes. Sure, he knew silk and cashmere but there was something about the two of them together. He almost understood why Sansa had looked at these scarves before. It was beautiful.

“Why don’t you get one?” He asked.

Sansa shook her head. “Because I don’t _need_ it and it’s worth the money but it’s just so much money.”

“Sometimes, you’re allowed to buy things you don’t need.”

“Yes, like a York Peppermint Patty in the grocery store checkout,” she quipped and Jon grinned.

With the same gentleness, Sansa took the scarf and took great care in folding it and returning it to the shelf.

“Good night, Ros,” Sansa said with a wave, heading back towards the door.

“Good night, Sansa. Good night, Jon.”

“Good night, Ros,” Jon said and followed Sansa out the door.

“I feel bad going in there all the time to look. I feel like I should buy something and stop teasing her but I just can’t yet. Maybe after I’m open for a few more months and see if I stay in the black.”

Jon didn’t say anything to that, not too sure what to say. Spending that much money on any article of clothing seemed slightly insane to him but he knew people who did it and if it was what they wanted to spend their money on, what did it have to do with Jon?

She held Lady’s leash in one hand and Jon took her other one in his. She had a pie carrier that Jon carried for her. He didn’t ask which pie she had brought. He wanted to be surprised.

“Should I be nervous?” Sansa then asked.

“No,” Jon squeezed her hand. “If anything, they need to be nervous about meeting you.”

“Don’t be silly,” she said but Jon could see that she was blushing.

“I’m not. They need to be nice and impress you if they ever want me to talk to them again.”

  
The truth was, Jon was the one feeling nervous. He had dated before but it had been a long time since he brought a girlfriend home and he really – _really_ – needed his mates to not embarrass him or ruin this for him. He knew he could maybe count on Ygritte and Edd could be gruff but more times than not, he knew how to be polite but Grenn loved ribbing Jon and embarrassing him whenever he could.

Grenn was the one he might have to lock in the closet and not let him out again until Sansa left.

…

“What’s this?” Sansa asked once introductions were made as coffee was brewed and everyone had slices of the apple pie.

Jon was at the counter, dropping a massive helping of vanilla ice cream over his pie slice, and he looked to see Sansa standing at the kitchen table where Ygritte was, making notes on a pad of paper. The surface of the table was covered in glass baby food jars with lids.

“My seventh grade class is doing a charcoal water purifying experiment,” Ygritte answered. “They each have two jars and after adding red food dye, they pour water in each. And then in one jar, the activated carbon is added. They’re supposed to keep notes on the next four days of what happens to the jars.”

Sansa leaned down to look at all of the jars for herself, seeing the difference between the two jars. One of the jars still had the red water and the other jar was completely clear.

“Did the charcoal do that?” Sansa asked, pointing to the clear jar.

“Yep!” Ygritte smiled, pleased that Sansa had guessed correctly.

“That’s amazing,” Sansa stood straight again. “All we did in my science class was grow crystals.”

“I grew mold,” Jon spoke up.

Ygritte sighed heavily and shook her head. “Such a disgrace to the science education of students.”

“Jon, I’m starting it!” Edd called out from the living room.

Sansa looked to the paused image on the screen. “ _Trailer Park Boys_?” She guessed.

Jon just grinned and Sansa tried to hide her grimace but she didn’t say anything about it. She followed Jon into the living room and Jon gently guided her to a spot on the couch. He sat next to her and Grenn and Edd were both sitting in the armchairs. Lady and Ghost, happy to see one another, were both lying on the floor, chewing their own bone.

“So, before season eight, this was a very low budget Canadian comedy. And it was hilarious,” Grenn said as Edd pressed the play button, beginning the episode. “But then Netflix bought it and make their own episodes now. They suck for the most part but we’re nothing if not loyal.”

“Of course,” Sansa nodded as if this was the most serious conversation she had ever been a part of.

Jon just grinned and ate a bite of pie, making sure he had ice cream with it.

“This is amazing,” Edd said and for a second, Jon thought he was talking about the episode but then he saw that Edd was focused on his own pie slice.

Sansa smiled, pleased at that, and she sipped her coffee, watching the episode in front of her, keeping all opinions – and grimaces – to herself like a champ.

But at the turnip scene, she actually let out a laugh and Jon grinned as if he had told the joke himself.

“Yeah,” Grenn laughed, agreeing. “Sometimes, even if something is complete shit, it can still make something nice that completely surprises you.” He turned his head and pointed a finger back and forth between Jon and Sansa. “And I’m not talking about you two.”

“Thank you for clarifying, Grenn,” Sansa smiled and Grenn grinned at her, giving a quick wink.

Jon glanced to Edd and found that Edd was looking at him already. Without a word, Edd gave him the slightest nod and Jon smiled just enough for Edd to see it. But then, his friends approving of his girlfriend suddenly left his mind because Sansa rested her head on his shoulder and after that, that was the only thing Jon could focus on. He even forgot about his pie and ice cream.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU so, so much!! I can't fully explain how happy I feel when I write this story and it means so much to me that you are reading it and liking it. We will see Ned in the next chapter and another date for Sansa and Jon!


	8. Making Some Plans

…

Sansa hummed to herself as she finished cutting up the slices of the last pumpkin pie and slid them into the case. Slipping further into fall and the pumpkin pie was now her second best seller behind the apple pie. For the season, her entire menu had changed with the pies she and her mom always made in the fall and a few of her own creations – apple, pumpkin and pear pies as well as cinnamon cream pie, pecan and brown sugar peach crumble. Just six pies but six pies were all she needed. Baking too many kinds of pies would stretch her too thin and the quality would begin to slip. And that would _not_ happen in her pie shop.

Besides the apple and pumpkin, all of her pies were selling well. She and her grandpa had been open for a month now and it had been a very good month. Sansa hoped that it always stayed like this though realistically, she knew that owning a business would be a rollercoaster; some up months, some down months and not every month could be a raging success. _Flour Power_ was still the new shop on the block and there was still excitement over the opening.

But for now, Sansa was going to be happy about her success and keep doing what she was doing.

“Come on, Lady,” she said and Lady followed after her.

Sansa opened the door that led up to the flat and with a kiss on her head and one last scratch, she sent Lady upstairs for the day. She closed the door again and then coming around the counter, she went to the chalkboard sign and once she disarmed the alarms, she dragged it out on the sidewalk, announcing, once again, that her pie shop was open for business.

It smelled like snow and Winterfell usually got their first snowfall right around the beginning to October so things were definitely on schedule.

Sansa hurried back into her shop because being outside for less than two minutes, setting the chalkboard sign up, had thoroughly chilled her straight to her bones. She went straight to her office where the thermostat was and she pressed the button to up it by just one degree.

The bell rang, signaling someone coming in, and Sansa hurried back out into the shop.

“Good morning!” She recognized it as the woman who bought pies for her office’s potlucks. She had come in two other times already since then. “How are you?”

“I am excellent and my office is having several executive head honchos coming in this afternoon for some meetings. I need you to stock me up,” the woman smiled.

“You got it,” Sansa laughed.

Four whole pies later – with Sansa helping the woman carry them to her car – Sansa had a steady flow of customers for the next hour. Once again, it seemed like _Flour Power_ was going to have a good day.

…

Sometimes, oftentimes, more times than not, Sansa had trouble sleeping.

Ever since her mom died, some nights, she would lay there and her mind wouldn’t stop moving and she would be awake for hours, silent tears rolling from her eyes. She actually would take Unisom at night so she could fall asleep nearly straight away and when she took a sleeping pill, she rarely dreamed.

She missed her mom so much and on those nights when she didn’t take a pill, she would toss and turn for hours, thinking of her; thinking if she was disappointing her or thinking if there was something she had done that she shouldn’t have. Sansa knew she wasn’t the only person with regrets – far from it – but she hated how at night, that was when it all came rushing at her.

She loved baking and couldn’t imagine doing anything else and this pie shop was hers _and_ her mom’s because though Catelyn had never made a profit from baking and had only ever done it for her family – and bake sales at various school events – Sansa knew that Catelyn could have easily made money from it.

If she hadn’t gone to culinary school in King’s Landing, she and her mom could have talked and planned and maybe, they could have opened this bakery that much sooner and had it for a couple of years together before they found out Catelyn was sick. She hadn’t _had_ to go to culinary school. She had gone to become more polished in her craft; as if her mom hadn’t been the best instructor there had been.

She would then have further regrets. Why didn’t she have a baby? Her mom wanted to be a grandma so bad and Sansa was twenty-three. She could have had a baby so her mom could have had the experience of a grandchild before she died. And yes, she knew how absolutely insane that was. She was _only_ twenty-three and she hadn’t been married or in any kind of serious relationship so where on earth would a baby have come from? And just to make her mom a grandma wasn’t any kind of reason to have a baby.

But if she didn’t take the Unisom, this was where her mind went.

There was a brief lull in customers and Sansa took the opportunity to go to the bathroom super quick and to blow her nose because anytime she thought of her mom, she always had to blow her nose.

She heard the bell back in the shop and she couldn’t help but hope that it was Jon. With both owning their own shops, they were both learning that it could be difficult, spending any significant time together. Yes, there was coffee in the mornings together, sometimes a quick lunch; some nights, either able to go to the other’s flat for dinner but they both went to bed so early and were both up so early for baking and butchering, Sansa saw that this wasn’t like any other relationship she had ever been in.

She supposed that went with age. In high school, boyfriends were saw constantly between classes and lunch and Friday night football games and various dances. In college, after classes, they had all of the time in the world to be together. But as adults with jobs and not only jobs but their own businesses to run? Sansa came to cherish every second she and Jon were able to have together.

And though Grenn was usually the one to get away from the shop to run on a lunch run, Sansa still hoped that it was Jon surprising her right now. She had also learned that when it came to thoughts of her mother that led to tears and wishing to crawl into bed and stay there, seeing Jon always made her smile again.

But being with Jon also made her think of her mom because Catelyn would be so happy to know that her daughter was dating a man she liked and yes, one she was falling in love with as well. She knew it was fast. Just a month now but she knew her immediate likeness towards Jon would only lead her down this path.

Coming out of her office though, Sansa saw it wasn’t Jon and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Dad!”

Ned Stark stood straight from studying the pie cases and he smiled the instant his eyes landed on her.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted as if this was planned. “Do you have a moment?” He asked the question and was already stepping around the far pie case to come around the counter.

“Of course,” Sansa readily answered. For any of her family, she always had more than a moment. “Is everything alright?” She had to ask that.

At Catelyn’s funeral, all five Stark children made an agreement with one another. They would look after their father, who, though he shook everyone’s hand and thanked them for coming and was able to speak of his wife in a clear, surprisingly steady voice, anyone who knew the man could tell that Ned Stark was breaking inside and nothing could stop him from further breaking.

Catelyn Stark had been his partner. The love of his life. And now, he was without her and he was alone.

Unbeknownst to him, his five children promised themselves and one another that they would do their best to take care of him – without making it obvious, of course. Rickon, it seemed, had forgotten that promise and seemed to be just fine with making Ned’s life _more_ difficult but the other four were still true to their word.

She hadn’t seen her father cry but she would see him afterwards – his eyes red and his whole body looking as if he was barely holding himself up; someone’s body who was so much older than her father. Sometimes, she would go over to the house and he had gone many days without shaving and when she asked her grandpa about it – casually as she possibly could – Hoster would only sigh and say that he tried.

And she knew her grandpa did the best he could but he wasn’t Ned’s mother and Ned was a grown man. How he grieved was his business. As long as he bathed and ate, there was little else they could force him to do.

“I’m good,” Ned answered her question and he did so with a smile.   
  
Sansa believed him and she smiled, too. “Would you like some pie?”

“I would love some but I have a lunch meeting with a couple of doctors and I shouldn’t spoil my appetite too much,” he said and Sansa just kept smiling because Ned seemed to be having a good day today.

“Coffee?” She then offered.

“I’ll get it. You have a shop to tend to,” Ned said, giving her a wink, and she almost laughed.

She loved when her dad was in a good mood. It made her feel like being in a good mood, too.

With her dad in the office, getting himself a cup of coffee, another customer came in and Sansa sold her last piece of pumpkin pie of the day.

For half a second, she wondered if she should give Jon a call; just to see if he could pop over for a moment. She knew her dad wanted to meet him and was slightly miffed that Grandpa Hoster already had. There hadn’t been a boyfriend since Harry and though Ned had never told Sansa his feelings one way or another, she knew that her dad hadn’t been the biggest fan of him. She hoped he liked Jon though. She _needed_ him to like Jon because she liked him so, so much and if her family didn’t like her boyfriend… well, her family and their opinions meant too much to her and she didn’t know if that was something she could ignore, to be honest.

But they had all loved his pork loin recipe and with her family, they took food so seriously and if they liked something in regards to their stomachs, they more than likely would like the person who’s recipe it was. Sansa didn’t know why she was nervous. Grandpa Hoster had met Jon and liked Jon. He was endlessly amused that Jon was a butcher and Sansa was a baker. Why wouldn’t her family like Jon as well? He wasn’t anything like Harry and Jon didn’t know it, but that was already a point in his favor.

Sansa didn’t call Jon though. He was working and she couldn’t ambush both Jon and her dad like that. Besides, her dad had clearly come here for a reason.

Ned came back from the office and he leaned back against the counter in the kitchen area, sipping his cup of coffee and Sansa wiped down the top of the pie cases where a few crumbs had landed.

“I need your help with Rickon,” her father did not beat around the bush.

Sansa immediately turned back to him. “Has he gotten in trouble again?” She asked the question, concerned for her youngest brother but also growing angry at the thought.

Rickon was fifteen and Sansa understood – _remembered_ – how awful of an age that was and she had been a fifteen-year-old _with_ her mother. She knew Rickon was missing Catelyn and needing her and acting out because of that but he also needed to step up and grow a little because they all needed him to; not just Ned.

“No, but I need to do something about him.” Ned took another sip of coffee. “If he didn’t have school, I’d send him to the far North to freeze with Robb and live in his RV but unfortunately, that’s not possible at the moment. Do you have any thoughts? Your Grandpa has suggested military school but nothing that extreme.”

Sansa was quiet for a moment; as if she needed time to think it through though she had had an idea about a month ago – just as she was opening – but she had kept it to herself. Now, it seemed, like was the time to present it. She didn’t know if it would help at all but it seemed like the point had been reached with Rickon where doing something was far better than doing nothing.

“If he comes here after school, I could use his help. I seem to get a final rush in the afternoons,” she said.

Ned exhaled then as if she had just said the exact thing he was hoping she would say. He slid his coffee cup onto the counter and then crossed to her, wrapping his arms around her in a too-tight hug but she didn’t mind. Sansa smiled and hugged him too tightly back.

“If I didn’t have this lunch to get to, I would stop in next door and meet this butcher of yours,” Ned said once they had broken apart.

That made Sansa laugh. “I have no doubt.”

Ned smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Bring him to Sunday dinner this week.”

Sansa knew the invitation was coming. She would have been surprised if her dad _hadn’t_ said that. But still, bringing Jon to Sunday dinner to meet her family, it made her stomach knot, already nervous though deep down, she knew she had absolutely no reason for that. They would like him.

“I’ll bring him,” she promised.

She hoped Jon would want to meet her family. What would that mean if he didn’t want to?

…

He had told her earlier that Grenn had offered to take care of putting everything away and cleaning up the shop so when Jon was able to ring her buzzer at five o’clock, Sansa was ready for him.

She refrained from flying down the stairs but she didn’t hide that she was hurrying. She had just seen him that morning – he coming over to the shop for coffee had become a morning ritual for them both – but she hadn’t seen him the rest of the day and she felt no shame in having missed him.

And as soon as she was outside on the sidewalk, Sansa threw her arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss right on his lips. She could tell that he was slightly surprised by the greeting but then, he was right there, kissing her back. She happily sank against him as his arms wound around her waist, holding her close to him, and he kissed her in return, his beard scratching her face like she absolutely loved.

There lips met in one kiss after another, each longer than the last, stealing all of the air from their lungs, leaving them panting and breathless but reluctant to break apart so they could fill them again. Her hair was down and she felt Jon’s fingers lift to gently comb through it and she slanted her mouth of his in response to that, deepening their kiss.

She was aware that they were making out in the middle of a public sidewalk but she couldn’t seem to get herself to stop. She enjoyed kissing Jon Snow very much.

“Hi,” Jon smiled at her once their mouths – _finally_ – parted for both to breathe. They were both breathing heavily but neither certainly seemed to mind.

“Hi,” she smiled back and she realized that she probably couldn’t stop smiling even if she wanted to. But why would she want to? “I missed you today,” she then said before she could even fully realize that she had. It was something she had just blurted out and only after did she wonder if she should even be thinking that let alone actually speaking it out loud.

Jon looked at her though and his eyes seemed to spark; as if he had never heard anything better. He leaned in and gave her the softest kiss then; almost chaste and completely innocent. Sansa felt just as breathless as she did when they had their tongues shoved down one another’s throats.

“I missed you today, too,” he told her and she really needed to hear that.

She and Jon were still on the exact same page as one another and nothing could make her happier.

“Be honest,” Jon said as they began walking down the sidewalk, his hand immediately taking a hold of hers. He shot her a smile. “When I told you where we’re going tonight, you went online to study the menu.”

“ _Of course_ that’s what I did, Jon,” she let out a laugh and his smile cracked into a grin. “And I’ve been starving for this for hours now.”

“I hope you like it,” he said, squeezing her hand, and he always seemed to worry about that whenever he wanted to do something with her. She would think that it was because there was some past relationship and perhaps an old girlfriend that _hadn’t_ liked wherever Jon took her but they hadn’t actually talked about past significant others.

It almost seemed odd to her that they hadn’t yet. Wasn’t that one of the first things people discussed with one another when they embarked on a relationship together? Baggage? Sansa didn’t consider her past relationships baggage. They were just relationships that had happened and then had ended and none of them really mattered anymore. Maybe that was how Jon felt about his exes, too.

After School Special was another small restaurant on their street – fast and casual – and they did one thing and one thing very well from the looks of their online reviews. Grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup.

There was an order counter and a pickup window and small round tables all around the restaurant that people helped themselves to. Still holding her hand, Jon got them in line and he studied the menu hanging on the wall. Sansa had already decided as she had looked online and she leaned in, resting her chin on his shoulder, her other arm coming around his waist. He saw her from the corner of his eye, beginning to smile, and Sansa smiled, too. He didn’t say anything and neither did she and they stood there together, completely comfortable in one another’s company. 

When they got to the register, Jon looked to Sansa.

“One blackberry and brie grilled cheese,” Sansa ordered.

“And one smoked gouda grilled cheese with the curried apple chutney,” Jon decided. “And we’re going to share a bowl of the tomato soup. What do you want to drink?” He looked back to Sansa.

“Um…” she pulled her head back to look at the soda fountain. “Small Dr. Pepper.”

“Me, too,” Jon told the cashier as he pulled his wallet from his back pocket.

After he paid, they were handed a plastic number and went to go claim a table for themselves. Even in a place like this with plastic chairs, Jon still held it out for her like they were at a four-star priced restaurant. The table was small but Sansa put her arms on it and leaned in even closer to him.

“I have to ask you something,” she said, getting right to it.

“Alright,” Jon said, leaning in closer, too, their noses almost touching, and she had to smile because they were being one of those annoyingly affectionate and adorable couples.

She loved it.

She inhaled a big breath and held it for a moment before releasing it. She had brushed her teeth before he picked her up so she knew her breath wouldn’t knock him over with their faces this close together.

“My dad came to the shop today and he wanted me to ask you if you would like to come to Sunday dinner.”

Jon didn’t answer her right away. She didn’t expect him to. They had only been dating for almost a month. Was that too soon to meet the family? She didn’t know. She couldn’t remember when Harry took her home to meet his parents and she couldn’t remember when she brought Harry around to meet hers.

That didn’t matter though. That had been her relationship with Harry and this was her relationship with Jon and this was how their relationship was going to be; one compared to none of their others.

“Do you want me to Sunday dinner?” Jon finally asked.

“I do,” Sansa didn’t hesitate.

Again, he was quiet, his eyes lowering down to the table, now thinking that through. Sansa held her breath now, honestly having no idea what he was going to say. She told herself that it was more than alright if he didn’t want to come but she also found herself really hoping that he would want to come.

Jon looked at her again. “What should I wear?” He asked.

Sansa didn’t answer him right away. She was too busy smiling and she leaned in, pressing her lips to his, mindful of being in public so a full make-out wasn’t possible, but oh goodness.

She was in love with this man. It happened just like that – and not a single part of her was surprised.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I absolutely love this chapter, for whatever reason, and I hope you enjoyed it, too! Thank you very much for reading this super soft love story. Jon meets the Starks in the next chapter and helps cook dinner.


	9. Sunday Dinner

…

“You know you don’t have to do this,” Sansa told him – and not for the first time – as they walked through the automatic doors of the grocery store.

“How dare you say that to me,” Jon said – not for the first time – and Sansa laughed as he went to get a shopping cart before they walked into the produce section together. He stopped to pull out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to Sansa. “You’re in charge of that. You are _not_ permitted to let me forget anything whether I have to do this or not,” he told her as sternly as he possibly could.

“I promise I won’t let you forget anything,” Sansa vowed and then leaned in, giving him a kiss as if to seal her words to him. “But now you must promise me that you won’t try so hard to impress them.”

“I’m just making braised short ribs and mashed potatoes,” he shrugged. “That wouldn’t impress anyone.”

She looked over the list he had handed her, not saying anything for a moment. She then looked at him as if he was slightly insane but Jon didn’t care what she thought. Well, _of course_ he cared what she thought but not when it came to this. He was meeting her family for the first time and he knew that Sunday dinner was an important part of who this family was. He wanted to make the best impression on them that he could and braised short ribs was a specialty of the hotel kitchen and Jon felt confident in being able to make this without unforeseen disaster.

He would get the bone-in short ribs from his shop and now, he needed the potatoes and all of the other vegetables that would make the puree sauce he would cook the ribs in. He had handed Sansa the list with the recipe written down but working in the hotel, he had made this dish enough times to still have it memorized.

Onions, celery, carrots, garlic, tomato paste, a good red wine, thyme and bay leaves. He mentally checked it all off as he and Sansa moved through the sections and aisles of the store. He would have concerns about cooking with red wine with her two youngest brothers not of drinking age yet but he knew that most of it would sear away in the pan over the stove and neither would probably be able to even taste it.

“Tomato paste,” she said when they were about to walk past that aisle and Jon threw her a smile as he turned the cart and they headed down together. “Please don’t be nervous,” she then said; almost too quietly and a Fats Domino song was playing over the store’s sound system and he would have missed it if he wasn’t already looking at her as she said that. “I mean it, Jon. My family… they’re going to love you.”

“Why?” He then had to ask, genuinely curious.

He had met a couple of past girlfriend’s families and neither of those times had been disasters. Parents seemed to like him. He knew it was because he was a bit on the quiet side and always polite and he didn’t excessively touch their daughter/sister while in their presence, respectful of them and their home. Jon knew it was because he was just a nice guy. Grenn, Edd and Ygritte had all explained it to him. He wasn’t threatening and when their daughters brought him to meet them, parents didn’t immediately want to have their daughter join a nunnery rather than date him.

Actually, Ygritte told him that parents looked at him and he was the exact kind of guy they wanted their daughters to marry – he’s just that nice and respectful.

And yet, somehow, this dinner with the Starks on Sunday felt like it was going to be completely different. They had no reason to dislike him – strongly or otherwise. Her Grandpa Hoster had seemed to have a good impression of him and Sansa had told him that her entire family had absolutely loved the pork loin recipe so he had that working his favor. He was also absolutely crazy about Sansa, which might work in his favor as well. But he was still nervous and slightly stressed and he just wanted Sunday to go absolutely perfect.

He knew he needed to follow Sansa’s lead. She didn’t seem nervous whatsoever about taking her boyfriend home to introduce him to her family. She actually seemed pretty excited about it and Jon tried to tap into that energy for himself. He wanted to be excited. It had only been a month and things were moving so fast between them and yet, it felt like the completely right speed for them to be moving at.

Maybe that was why he was nervous; _one_ of the reasons he was so nervous. Maybe her family will think they are moving way too fast and try to tell them both that they need to slow down. Jon didn’t know what slowing down would mean but he already knew that he wouldn’t like it.

“Because it will be obvious to them how I feel about you and they know that that’s all that matters,” Sansa answered his question with a smile.

“And how do you feel about me?” Jon asked her then because he had to ask.

Sansa smiled and leaning in, she gave him a quick kiss. “Tomato paste, Jon,” she reminded him and he smiled, too.

He studied the cans for a moment and took the one he wanted. “That’s how you feel about me? Tomato paste?” He began pushing the cart down the aisle and Sansa walked at his side, laughing, looking back down to the list to see what else was needed.

“Yep, tomato paste.”

He knocked her arm gently with his arm. “I tomato paste you, too.”

The blush that spread across her face at those words was so beautiful and Jon stopped the cart so he could gently take her arm, turning her towards him. He leaned in and kissed her and Sansa seemed to sigh against his lips as if that was exactly what she had wanted him to do.

…

“Ygritte!” Jon poked his head out of his bedroom and shouted her name. “Ygritte!” He shouted again when she didn’t appear within the second.

“Shut up!” Ygritte shouted back from somewhere in the flat.

Jon went back into his bedroom to stand in front of his closet. Why the fuck did he own so much black? There were other colors in the spectrum and he was aware of those colors so why the Hell didn’t he own any of them? Every time he saw Sansa, she was wearing color and here he was, walking around like the Grim fucking Reaper. Why hadn’t anyone told him?

“What?” Ygritte asked with an impatient sigh, stepping into the bedroom. Grenn walked in after her, eating a bowl of ice cream, and he went to make himself comfortable on Jon’s bed.

“Is that mine?” Jon frowned at him though he knew he was the only one in this flat who bought ice cream; especially the mint chocolate chip ice cream Grenn was clearly eating right now.

“Of course it is,” Grenn just grinned as he dug out another spoonful.

Jon’s frown deepened as he looked to Ygritte. “I don’t know what to wear.”

“What did Sansa tell you to wear?” Ygritte asked as she came to stand in front of his closet with him.

“Casual but what if her family’s definition of casual is different than our definition of casual?”

“I think casual means casual, Jon. If you were supposed to wear a tuxedo or three-piece suit, she would have told you that. What about this?” She pulled out a black sweater – one of the many he owned – and Jon stood still as she held it up against his chest. “This looks nice.”

Jon sighed. “I guess.”

“I’m going to smack you,” Ygritte then informed him, quite casually, as she hung the sweater up again. She reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She began looking for something and once she found it, she put the phone on speaker so they could all hear the phone ringing.

“Hi, Ygritte,” Sansa answered on the other end and Jon’s eyes widened.

“You’re calling Sansa?” He asked, forgetting that they were on speaker and could be easily heard.

Sansa laughed lightly. “Hi, everyone,” she then said.

“Hi, Sansa!” Grenn called out, his mouth full of ice cream.

“Sansa, is your family’s definition of casual involve a sports coat or dress slacks?” Ygritte asked, her hands looking at each article of clothing Jon had hanging in his closet before pushing it aside to look at the next.

“No,” Sansa said and there was a slight laugh in her tone as if she had been expecting this exact phone call.

Sansa laughed often when she was around him. He had never considered himself a funny guy until he started seeing Sansa but she knew that when she laughed, she was never laughing _at_ him.

“What are you wearing?” Ygritte then asked Sansa.

In the back of his mind, Jon wondered if Ygritte and Sansa talked often considering Ygritte had Sansa in her contacts and it _sounded_ like the two talked more than just two girlfriends dating friends and co-butchers.

“Jeans and a sweater,” Sansa answered and Jon could hear her smiling as if this whole thing was hilarious.

Jon didn’t find it particularly funny and he would remind her of this when he took her to meet his mom because he had no doubt that Sansa would be stressing and freaking out about that when the time came.

“So Jon should wear jeans and a sweater, too?” Ygritte asked, giving Jon a very obvious “I told you so” look.

“Jon,” Sansa answered, speaking to him directly. “You should wear jeans and a sweater.”

Jon nodded his head for a moment before remembering that she wouldn’t be able to see that. “I’ll do that. And I’m still picking you up at one?” He knew he was. They had discussed it and Sansa had already let her dad know that Jon needed about three hours to cook dinner. Ned Stark had told her that Jon didn’t have to cook dinner but Sansa let her dad know that Jon was insisting. “And your dad knows I’m cooking?”

“Yes and yes,” Sansa answered both questions, her smile still obvious.

“Thanks, Sansa,” Ygritte said, smiling too, and giving Jon a look; he knowing that she was smiling at _his_ expensive and when he glared at her, it just made her laugh.

“Bye, Sansa!” Grenn called out as Ygritte ended the call and then turned, tossing the phone onto the bed, before turning back towards the closet.

“Do you and Sansa talk a lot?” Jon had to ask as Ygritte picked another sweater - a black cable knit.

“We do,” she nodded. “I complain to her a lot about Grenn. She is an excellent listener.” Jon glanced at Grenn at that but Grenn just grinned. “And no, Jon. She doesn’t call me to complain about you. You two are absolutely disgusting.”

“Are we?” Jon had to ask while feeling warm in his chest that Sansa didn’t call Ygritte to complain about him for something he had – or hadn’t – done. Not that he thought Sansa would do something like that, but he still felt good that she didn’t.

“You’re so happy,” Ygritte nodded, handing him the sweater and then going to plop down next to Grenn. “It’s not natural. People dating are allowed to get on each other’s nerves. You’re _expected_ to annoy each other.”

Jon didn’t say anything to that as he went to his dresser to find a pair of jeans to wear with the sweater.

Even when he and Sansa were dating a year from now – _when_ and not _if_ , he purposely, but also naturally, said to himself – he honestly couldn’t imagine him and Sansa ever annoying each other.

“Do you mind keeping an eye on Ghost for me tonight?” Jon asked instead of commenting to Ygritte. “I don’t know how long this dinner will go and I don’t want him to be crossing his legs, waiting for me.”

“And you don’t know what’s going to be happening after the dinner,” Grenn added with a grin.

Jon, honestly, hadn’t even been thinking about that but now, of course, that was on the forefront of his mind. He gave Grenn a frown. He shouldn’t be meeting Sansa’s dad while thinking about sleeping with Sansa. That’s the _last_ thing he should be thinking about and damn it, Grenn.

…

Ned Stark, Hoster Tully and Rickon Stark lived in a subdivision on the north side of Winterfell. Jon followed Sansa’s directions as she sat in the passenger seat, telling him to turn here or there. It was a fairly typical two-story house – gray with a bright red front door. The garage was detached and somewhat behind the house. Jon knew that her Grandpa lived in the apartment above it. He wondered how an older man dealt with the snow and weather of the North, having to trudge down the stairs of the garage apartment and then across to the back door of the house. That would not be something Jon would be asking him tonight – if ever.

“Ready?” Sansa smiled from next to him.

Jon didn’t say anything and nodded.

“Hey,” she said softly and there was something in her gentle tone that immediately made him look at her. She still smiled and she lifted a hand, putting it lightly to his cheek. “Tomato paste.”

Jon exhaled a breath, almost something of a laugh, and he covered her hand with his, taking a hold of it and squeezing it. “You’re right,” he nodded.

Sansa leaned in and gave him a kiss and when she opened her door and got out, Jon got out, too. Lady was in the backseat, along with the two bags of groceries, and as Sansa let the dog out, Jon grabbed both bags. Looking back to the house, Jon saw the front door was now open and a man had stepped out, staying on the front porch. This was obviously Ned Stark and despite Sansa and Sansa’s words, the tight knot returned to the pit of Jon’s stomach and didn’t ease.

Sansa took one of the bags from his arm and then taking his other hand, she began to gently tug him forward.

“We’re here!” She stated the obvious as they neared. “Dad, this is Jon Snow. Jon, this is my dad, Ned Stark.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Jon,” Ned took a step forward, holding out his hand, and Jon admitted that he hadn’t been expecting the man to say that.

He quickly snapped his mind to attention. “It’s very nice to meet you, too, sir.”

Ned almost grinned at that and he looked to Sansa. He seemed surprised about something and Sansa was just beaming back at her dad. Jon had no idea what was going on but calling him ‘sir’ seemed to get some kind of reaction; not a bad one, so that was important to keep note of, Jon thought.

“Come in. I kept telling Sansa that you were not expected to cook for us but once she told us what you’re going to be making, I’m not going to lie. It sounds delicious,” Ned said, stepping into the house first with Sansa and then Jon following after. Lady pushed herself past all of them so she could be the first in and she immediately raced into the living room, leaping onto the couch where Jon saw Hoster was lounging. “Hoster, Jon’s here,” he told his father-in-law what the man probably already knew.

“Hello again, Jon,” Hoster said without getting up, too busy giving Lady a good rubdown.

“Hello, Mr. Tully,” Jon greeted.

He actually liked that Hoster hadn’t gotten up to greet him. It made it feel like Jon coming over for Sunday dinner was something normal that happened all of the time and no special greetings were necessary.

“Where’s Rickon?” Sansa asked once Ned closed the front door behind them so all the cold didn’t rush in. Jon and Sansa set the bags down so they could begin taking off their shoes and outer layers.

“Down the street at Brian’s. He swore he’d be back in time for dinner,” Ned answered.

“If he’s not back in time, I’ll go and get him myself,” Sansa swore.

Jon looked around as he followed Sansa through the living room to where, he assumed, was the kitchen. His eyes took note of the framed pictures of the family taken at various times in their lives at various events. He smiled a little when he looked at one hanging on the wall of Sansa standing between her parents in a white chef’s jacket and white chef’s hat, holding a diploma. It was obviously her graduation from culinary school and all three were smiling so brightly, Jon could feel their happiness through the picture. He took note of Catelyn Stark. Sansa was definitely her mom’s daughter.

There were also quite a few framed photographs hanging around of Direwolves that looked to be taken in the wild by a professional. In addition to that, there was a framed movie poster hanging on the wall next to the television. _The Packing Order_. Jon had seen it when it had come to a theater around here. It wasn’t some massive release. Just a documentary shown in arthouses and small independent theaters. It had been a documentary on the wild and endangered Direwolves of the far North; a quite good one.

Something then clicked in his mind about what Sansa had told him about her older brother, Robb.

_Robb is in the far North and even he has to come back for it twice a month._

“I’m going to help you,” Sansa let him know as she set her bag on the kitchen island counter.

“You don’t have to,” Jon shook his head as he set his bag down as well.

“I’m helping you,” she said and in her tone, there was little room for argument, if any.

“Jon, would you like something to drink?” Ned asked.

“Water would be just fine, sir,” Jon answered.

Again, Ned smiled at that and Sansa moved a step in closer to Jon.

“You don’t have to call him that,” she told him in a quiet tone. “You’re going to give him a full head and make him feel like he’s important.” That last bit was purposely said loud enough for her dad to hear.

Ned snorted with a laugh and Sansa smiled. “Don’t tell him to stop, Sansa. I’m already quite fond of it.”

“Thank you, sir,” Jon smiled at the man and took the glass of water Ned held out for him, Ned giving him a grin. Jon then looked to Sansa, still smiling, when she poked him playfully in the side.

“Your brother’s coming today,” Ned let Sansa know.

“Robb?” Sansa immediately perked to attention at her father’s words. “I thought he was coming next Sunday and he wasn’t able to get away this week.”

“Oh, no,” Ned smiled and then took a sip from his own glass of water. “I told him he should make himself get down here _this_ Sunday.”

The knot in Jon’s stomach tightened.

“So, Jon, tell me about yourself,” Ned said as Jon and Sansa emptied the grocery bags and Sansa moved around the kitchen, getting the things that Jon would need to prepare them dinner.

Jon had been expecting that – and he might have practiced what he would say while in the shower this morning – but the knot remained nonetheless.

He just dove right in, figuring Ned Stark was the sort of man who would like someone direct – or at least appreciate it.

As he seasoned the short ribs with salt and then coated the large pot Sansa had pulled down for him with olive oil, bringing it on the stove to high heat, he next began browning the ribs in the pan. “Could you please preheat the oven to 375 for me?” He asked Sansa and she gave him a smile, going to do that. He then looked to Ned and began talking.

He told him about his mom and growing up in Myr and their life there before back here to Westeros and then he went into his time at The Grey Wolf Hotel and working in the kitchen before discovering butchery and how he came to open his own butcher shop. (He hoped Ned didn’t mind that Jon didn’t go to college.)

Ned listened to every word he said; as if he truly wanted to learn all about him. And maybe he did. Jon was the guy dating his daughter. Actually, now that he thought about it, Jon would be concerned if Ned _wasn’t_ interested in what kind of guy was dating Sansa.

“Is your mom from Winterfell?” Ned asked.

“Torrhen’s Square but her job transferred us here to Winterfell when I was fifteen,” Jon answered. “I’m sorry,” he then said to Sansa. “Do you have a food processor? I’m sorry if I’m being bossy.”

“I like watching you in the kitchen,” Sansa just smiled at him and with a kiss to his cheek – right there in front of her father – she went off to the pantry to get him the food processor.

When he looked back to Ned, he was watching Jon, yes, but he seemed to be watching them both. Jon had no idea what he was thinking. He could only hope that Sansa’s dad didn’t completely hate him already and would at least wait until he tried the braised short ribs Jon was making for dinner.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! The next chapter will be cut between several POVs including Robb's and Ned's. I love writing Sansa and Jon's relationship through someone else's eyes.


	10. Comparisons

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50386692161/in/dateposted/)

…

Before his mom got sick, Robb Stark was on a certain path. It wasn’t necessarily a plan he was crazy about and wasn’t one he was even sure he wanted to be on but he thought it was one he had to take. Graduate high school, go to college, graduate, get a job in some boring nondescript office doing some boring nondescript job and living out his life like that because that was what people did. Most people didn’t love their job but they worked because they needed money and Robb just assumed that it would be the same for him and what could he possibly do about it? He would have bills to pay like everyone else.

But then Catelyn Stark was discovered to have an inoperable brain tumor and it changed _everything_.

As the oldest, Robb took it upon himself to stay strong for his brothers and sisters and for his dad, too. That was his job. Catelyn and Ned had always relied on him for certain things and even now, even though he was losing his mom as well, Robb wasn’t going to let any of them down.

Arya watched movies with Catelyn and Bran read her books. Sansa and her talked about recipes and plans for the bakery Sansa was going to open. Rickon did his homework with her – and they would all learn that Catelyn seemed to be the only one who could get Rickon to do his homework – and as for Robb, he and Catelyn talked. He sat next to her bed and they talked about anything and nothing and Robb tried to think of every conversation he could possibly ever have with her – which he thought he had years to have – and he did his best to have them with her now.

“Robb?” She said to him one afternoon. “Do you like what you studied?”

Robb’s brow furrowed at the rather random question. “Sure,” he shrugged. Not really, but he had already done his four years, graduated from university and was now working in a sales office for a ketchup company. He had studied business and economics because what else was he supposed to study?

“Do you like your job?” She asked him next.

This one wasn’t as easy a question to answer. Did he like his job? Hell no and that was emphatic. But he couldn’t tell his mom that; his mom who was dying. He didn’t want her last months to worry about that.

“I like it well enough,” he lied as easily as he could.

He shouldn’t complain, he knew. The job paid well enough and he was able to afford a flat and pay his bills and still have money left over to live. So it was slowly killing his will to live and sometimes, he felt like a zombie going through the days but it could always be worse. He looked at his mom, lying in bed and literally dying in front of him, and knew that it could always be so much worse.

“I always loved your photographs. You’ve always taken the best photographs,” Catelyn said with a smile. “I know you didn’t want to focus on your photography because it wouldn’t pay the bills but I think you should. You _should_ , Robb.”

Catelyn was the one to buy him his first camera – just a cheap disposable while at the grocery store and she was juggling Sansa and Arya and she handed it to Robb because he was being such a good boy. Robb still remembered how he had taken such care in snapping his pictures – the clouds, a leaf on the sidewalk, a fire hydrant, his dad throwing a bag into the trash bin outside. And when Catelyn took him the next week to drop off his camera for development, Robb could _still_ remember the excitement he had felt.

After that, he was hooked. Catelyn and Ned dubbed him the Stark family official family photographer and any special occasion, holiday or event in their family, Robb wound up taking the majority of the photos. Disposables, digitals and his parents gifted him with a vintage 35mm camera when he turned sixteen.

He would have loved to continue to pursue his love and try and make a life of it but as his mom said, Robb had been the one to talk himself out of it. Not his parents. He actually knew his parents would have supported him no matter what. But what was he going to do with photography besides work in a photo studio in a department store and take family portraits all day, barely scraping by?

“Promise me, Robb,” Catelyn said, taking his hand. “Promise me you’ll be happy. No matter what that means. I need to know that you’ll be happy.”

And it would have been so easy to tell her that he was happy and he was going to be fine but he looked to his mom and her words shook him. He felt deep in his chest. _Promise me you’ll be happy_.

Three days after his mom’s funeral, Robb walked into his boss’s office and quit. Just like that. He had been dating Jeyne Westerling, a zoologist he had met in college, for four months and he knew everyone would think four months was too soon but Robb didn’t care because he loved her and he was _happy_ with her. He asked her to marry him and she said yes and they wound up eloping that night, telling their families the next day. Jeyne fully supported Robb in what he wanted to do and he began taking pictures again and he discovered he loved taking pictures of animals. They enjoyed going to the zoo and Robb snapped pictures of every animal he could; especially the Direwolves. Direwolves were such a northern animal and the Stark family was as north as an animal could be and Robb wondered if that was why he fell so in love with them.

He and Jeyne moved to the far North – the _far_ North – and embraced an “off the grid” lifestyle. They sometimes lived in a RV and sometimes, they lived in a cabin with their own water system and solar panels on the roof for power. And they traveled all over, photographing and filming packs of Direwolves. Every day, Robb looked at his wife and the wild packs of Direwolves he lived with now and he wished his mom could see him now because he was as happy as a person possibly could be.

Robb now sat in his parents’ dining room, at the table, looking at the young man sitting across from him sitting next to Sansa. Jon Snow seemed understandably nervous but was doing his best to hide it. Robb then looked to Sansa. She couldn’t seem to stop smiling. She would look to Jon and say something to him quietly and Jon would smile at her and Sansa’s smile would just grow.

That was important, Robb noted. Sansa had one of those smiles where it could easily be known when it was completely fake. It pulled at the corners of her lips as if they were on strings and it never reached her eyes. Near the end of her relationship with Harry, it seemed like every smile Sansa wore had been painfully fake.

Not with Jon though. Sansa looked at him and _beamed_.

And that made Robb instantly interested in the guy. Sansa wasn’t the sort to just bring anyone she was dating over to meet the family but still, was he going to be another Harry? A guy she was dating who no one was crazy about and no one could imagine them having something more?

No, Robb, he thought. It was startling and somewhat shocking and yet, when Robb thought it, he couldn’t _un-think_ it. Jon and Sansa looked like his parents. It was almost frightening and Robb couldn’t help but look to his dad to see if he possibly saw the same thing.

“This is so delicious, Jon,” Jeyne, sitting next to Robb, smiled at him as she cut another piece of short rib. “Like, _ridiculously_ delicious.”

Jon seemed both embarrassed and relieved when others spoke up to agree with her. “I’m glad you like it.”

“And what’d you bring for dessert, Sansa?” Bran asked. “Did you get my texts of suggestions?”

Of the five children, Robb thought that Bran and Arya both were the ones who changed the most from Catelyn’s death. Sansa was always going to be a baker and Robb was reminded of his love for photography and Catelyn dying only pushed them to the paths they were meant to be on. And Rickon had always been a bit wild – his mother’s death making it worse – but Bran and Arya seemed to be the ones who did complete 180 degree turns after they laid Catelyn Stark to rest.

Bran had always been studious; always curious and eager to learn. The whole family thought he could easily be a doctor or a scientist. But after Catelyn’s death, Bran, a freshman in college, abruptly dropped out. Ned tried to talk him out of it – and then demand that he not – but Bran wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Dad, recent scientific studies have proven that brain cancer can be inherited. Maybe it will skip a few generations. Maybe it came and went with mom but it _can_ be. I’m not going to waste any more time, sitting in lecture halls and fighting for good grades when in the end, it doesn’t matter.”

Ned did his best to tell him that that was no way to live. “You can’t just wait for something bad to happen, Bran. Your mom wouldn’t want you to drop out of college. You’re so smart and you can do anything.”

“Right,” Bran nodded in agreement. “If I’m smart, I’ll be smart with or without college.”

And that was that. Bran remained dropped out and after a few months of floating around, trying his hand at different jobs, he found something rather… surprising.

“Do you know how awesome you feel after you get a haircut?” He asked his family over Sunday dinner. “It’s something so small but you leave the shop, feeling a little lighter and a little happier. All just from a haircut. That’s what I want to do. I want to make people happy in the simple things.”

Bran was now enrolled in a barber school to become a licensed barber.

Arya had been the one to hate school. She had never had the patience with and always knew there was something far better she could be doing with her time. She had gone to college because, much like Robb, she knew that that was what she was supposed to do but majored in “general studies” so she didn’t have to commit herself to one thing. When she graduated, she was fully prepare to see the entire world.

But then her mom got horribly sick and died and Arya knew that she would never be the same.

She was a sophomore, going into her junior year, but she changed studies completely. It would take her longer to get her undergraduate degree since she had to take all sorts of new classes now but she was working and studying hard and she was determined with what she was doing now. She was meant to do this. She was going to graduate and then study for the MCAT test to get into medical school and then, eventually, she would become an oncologist so she could help others with cancer. It would take her a long time. She knew that. But everything she was doing now felt exactly what she was supposed to be doing.

“Yes,” Sansa laughed. “I got all seven of your texts. And I’ve tried something different this week. It’s a chocolate chip pie which is like a massive chocolate chip cookie but more pie like.”

“Is it going on the menu at the shop?” Hoster wondered.

“You are all my test bunnies so if none of you die of food poisoning, maybe,” Sansa laughed again.

Robb noticed that if she wasn’t smiling, she was laughing this week. She was so happy. Ridiculously happy. He looked back to Jon Snow at her side. Why did he have a feeling that it was because of the man sitting next to her? Well, no. It wasn’t a feeling. Robb _knew_ it was because of Jon Snow.

As the oldest, he had always been protective of his younger siblings. He knew it just came with the role but he always consciously made an effort to not be _too_ protective. He wasn’t their parent. They already had that. But he was their big brother so yes, some looking out for them was definitely in the job description but it was never his intention to take it overboard.

Still, he wanted to get to know this man because he had a very strong feeling that he was sticking around.

“How did you two meet?” He asked them.

Sansa was chewing so Jon took the lead.

“The morning when the sign was going up on the empty shop next door, I had to go out and see what it was and Sansa, with Lady, was standing on the sidewalk outside, supervising.”

“A butcher and a baker is so sweet,” Jeyne added with a smile at them both. Jon smiled a little too, looking to Sansa, and she was smiling and blushing, looking to Jon.

“So who’s the candlemaker?” Rickon asked with a frown, his elbow bent on the table and his head resting on his fist as if he had never been more bored before in his life. He was also barely eating his plate of food.

Sansa just laughed though. “I’m sure there’s some historical village we can go to and we can make candles. That would make both of us candlemakers.”

“That sounds awesome,” Jon said and he said it so dryly, everyone had a good chuckle over that and Sansa playfully elbowed him in the side.

“Rickon,” Ned said with a slight frown and taped the boy’s plate with the tip of his knife.

Rickon sighed heavily and sat up straight. “Can I go to McDonald’s with Brian?” He asked.

“No, you can’t,” Hoster frowned from across the table. “Jon went to all of the trouble, making us this delicious dinner, your sister made dessert and your brother and sister-in-law are visiting.”

“One, who the fuck is Jon and why should I care if he made dinner?”

“Hey!” Ned snapped, but Rickon just kept glaring at his grandpa, who glared right back.

“Two, Sansa makes dessert every week and it’s not like I’ve never had her pies before and Robb and Jeyne visit every other week,” Rickon finished. The Stark kids were all silent, looking at Ned and Hoster to see what they were going to do, and Ned and Hoster were both staring at Rickon, who was frowning, his jaw clenched.

Sansa and Robb then looked to one another, deciding who would come to their dad and grandpa’s aid.

It was Arya though who spoke first. “You can’t go to McDonald’s but you can go upstairs and stay there for the rest of the night.”

Rickon now turned his glare and frown on her. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m your sister who’s about to punch you in the face,” Arya said without missing a beat.

Ned took Arya’s lead. “Go upstairs, Rickon. You’re staying up there for the rest of the night.”

Rickon stared at him, as if waiting to see if Ned really meant that or would change his mind, but after a minute of tense silence, seeing that he meant it, he shoved himself away from the table and without a word, he stomped from the dining room. They all heard him stomp up the stairs and a second later, his bedroom door slammed shut with so much force, Robb swore that the light fixture over the table swayed a little.

“I’m sorry,” Sansa said to Jon quietly.

“It’s alright,” Jon shook his head.

“No, it’s not,” Ned said. “I’m sorry, Jon.”

“Really, it’s alright. Short ribs aren’t for everyone. I make this really good stuffed cabbage with ground pork and ground beef and I’m just glad I didn’t make that. He might have really hated it.”

“That sounds amazing,” Bran spoke up. “Can you make that next week?”

Jon looked around the table, to see what everyone thought about that, and he then looked back to Sansa. She was just smiling and looking so happy and it looked like she was about to plant a kiss on him right there at the table, not caring if they were all there.

“I can if you’d all like that,” Jon then answered.

Jeyne looked to Robb. “We might have to come down two weeks in a row for that,” she told him.

Robb didn’t say anything to that. He was too busy watching Jon and Sansa and Sansa had taken Jon’s hand, giving it a squeeze and the look Jon then gave Sansa, Robb felt a tightness in his chest that made him have to look away, exhaling a deep breath.

“Are you alright?” Jeyne whispered to him.

Robb nodded but couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t look at anyone; especially Jon and Sansa.

The way Sansa took Jon’s hand and the way Jon looked at her, it was too much like Ned and Catelyn and Robb could barely handle it.

Fuck him, he had not been expecting that today when meeting Sansa’s new boyfriend and he certainly wasn’t prepared for that.

…

Ned sat in the living room, eating his slice of chocolate chip pie and sipping a cup of freshly brewed coffee, listening as Arya was telling him about her classes. From the corner of his eye, he was very aware of Jon and Sansa’s presence, Sansa showing him around the house, stopping at certain pictures and telling him the story behind it. Every now and then, the young man would say something quietly and it would make Sansa laugh.

“What do you think about him?” Arya suddenly asked in a low voice, leaning in.

She broke off a forkful of her own pie and brought it to her mouth, looking to Ned and waiting an answer.

Ned smiled a little. “He is a very nice young man.”

Ned could tell that the moment he shook Jon’s hand and Jon called him ‘sir’. And what wasn’t to like about Jon Snow? He was a very nice young man; a genuine one. He worked hard and had his own business and a man who could cook as well as Jon did, that certainly spoke in his favor.

“Sansa’s crazy about him,” Arya then said what Ned could clearly see for himself. “She’s really happy.”

“She is and I’m glad for it. That’s all me and your mom have ever wanted for all of you.”

“I know, dad,” Arya gave him a softened smile at that. “He seems crazy about her, too.”

Ned took a sip of coffee and now, looked at Jon and Sansa head on. They were standing in front of a collage of baby pictures on the wall and Sansa was pointing to one of her. Ned couldn’t hear what Jon said but the man had a slight smile tugging at his lips as he did and Sansa laughed, shaking her head. As she laughed, Jon never took his eyes off of her; looking at nothing but her.

But then, the pain in his chest was too much and Ned had to look away.

“He does,” Ned agreed with Arya.

He used to look at Catelyn the exact same way; as if everything in this world literally revolved around her. When they walked outside, every flower turned towards her and followed after her because Catelyn was the sun and they needed her.

He had just met him, Ned knew, but he liked Jon Snow already. He could tell that Jon truly cared for Sansa and Sansa was the happiest Ned had seen her since Catelyn’s death. It actually might be deeper than merely caring. These two had just met and it had only been about a month or so but Ned recognized the look of it.

He fell in love with Catelyn the instant he saw her and by the end of their first date, Ned knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life with this woman.

If Jon and Sansa returned to his house next Sunday for another week’s dinner and announced that they were engaged to get married, Ned wouldn’t be surprised in the least.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I had a really good time writing about the Stark children and their different paths in life. THANK YOU very much for reading!! Jon and Sansa have some *alone* time in the next chapter. 
> 
> (PS - I always imagine Lily James as Jeyne Westerling.)


	11. A Romantic Soundtrack

…

The bed was soft beneath her as he gently lowered her onto it, his lips never leaving hers. She was nervous, scared, and she wondered if he were these things, too, but she didn’t want to end their kiss to ask him. She was almost just as afraid of his possible answer. They hadn’t talked that much about it. After dinner with her family, this just sort of…

Happened.

Hoster asked if Lady could stay the night and he promised to drop her off at the shop in the morning. Sansa had no issue with it and after saying goodnight and goodbye to everyone with Jon making promises that he would come back next Sunday with the stuffed cabbage, he and Sansa had left, heading back to Sansa’s flat.

“Would you like to come up?” Sansa had asked once Jon had parked at the curb outside of her shop. She had felt shy and yet, she had felt excited. She had actually never asked that question before. Harry had always taken the lead when it came to their sex life and before that, her high school boyfriend – her first – Marcus had been equally clueless and they had just kind of stumbled along together.

But with Jon, she felt very much like she could ask him that question and not be embarrassed.

And when Jon looked at her from the driver’s seat, his eyes looked practically black and Sansa’s stomach twisted. That had definitely been the right question to ask him.

His mouth opened against hers and she followed his lead, parting her lips and hearing herself moan softly as his tongue slipped in, meeting hers. One of his hands was on the side of her face, his hand soft and warm and his fingertips slightly rough.

The first time they had held hands, she had loved the feel of his hands. They were rough and strong. She wouldn’t tell him this – ever – but Sansa very much loved imagining the way his hands dealt with the meats he butchered so delicately. And now his hands were on her and she felt a shiver quake down her spine.

“Wait,” she gasped suddenly, pulling her mouth away from his, and her hands went to his chest but she didn’t push on him. Jon immediately lifted his head, slightly out of breath, and he looked down at her, looking closely to see what was wrong. She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she swallowed.

“For what?” He frowned slightly, shifting slightly on top of her and he began to slide off completely but her hands were quick to grab his shoulders, stopping him.  
  


“I’m scared,” she then heard herself admit in a whisper.  
  


He was quiet for a moment, looking at her, her eyes still closed, and he then brushed his lips lightly across hers. “We don’t have to do anything, Sansa,” he told her; something he felt she should already know.  
  


“I want to… Believe me, I really want to,” she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, immediately finding herself looking into his. “I just… does my breath taste bad?” She suddenly asked, randomly. “I brushed my teeth before you picked me up but then I obviously ate dinner and had dessert… and I shaved…” her cheeks were bright red now with her confessions but she kept herself looking into his eyes and the more she talked, Jon began to smile.  
  


He lowered his head towards her but paused, not wanting to do anything in that moment she didn’t want but she didn’t stop him and his lips pressed gently against hers. “You’re perfect,” he told her softly.  
  


She shook her head. “Don’t say that. I’m not..”  
  


“I know it and you should trust me. I know a lot,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching as his smile grew and after a moment, she smiled, too. He kissed her again. “Do you want me to brush my teeth?” He asked.

“Why would I want you to brush your teeth?” Her eyebrows furrowed together.  
  


“Does my breath taste bad?” He asked.  
  


She laughed a little then and shook her head. “You taste like you. You taste perfect.”  
  


“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, teasing her, a smile breaking through and she laughed softly again.  
  


He kissed her, sinking more fully on top of her and she welcomed the weight, her arms slipping around his shoulders, her mouth the one this time to open first against his and her tongue touched the top of his mouth.  
  


He didn’t stay long. He moved his mouth from hers and his lips moved along her cheek and followed the line of her jaw to the side of her throat. She closed her eyes and felt herself melt into the bed beneath her and she whispered his name.

Her hands slid down his back and then her fingertips slipped beneath his sweater and the tee-shirt he wore underneath it, feeling the warmth of his skin and she felt his muscles twitch beneath her touch. He was kissing and gently sucking at patches of her skin and she heard herself moan again. She was getting so warm and she shifted beneath him. She whimpered then and Jon heard it, too. He lifted his head and looked at her.  
  


“Do you want to stop?” He asked and she shook her head. That definitely was not a sound she made when she wanted something to stop.  
  


He sat up on his knees and he grabbed the back of his sweater and tee-shirt, tugging them both over his head and tossing it aside. She couldn’t stop herself from instantly sitting up and kissing his bare chest. Jon’s eyes slid shut and his hands went to her head, fingers tangling in her hair as she kissed softly, gently, and teasingly all at the same time that had his blood roaring in his ears before all draining southwards.  
  


His own hands went to her sweater and slowly pulled it upwards, Sansa lifting her arms, helping him take it off. He hesitated and she looked up at him, wondering if he would, and when he seemed to be not moving – because of her – she smiled faintly and reached behind to her back herself. Her fingers easily unclasped her bra and she removed it slowly, her eyes never leaving his and she saw him visibly swallow.  
  


Her breasts were small yet full and Jon wouldn’t tell her this but he had dreamt about her breasts many nights before this and now that he was finally seeing them with his own eyes in the flesh, his tongue grew too big for his mouth and his throat began to go dry, closing up. He felt himself unable to blink, not wanting to miss a second of her. She felt goosebumps flesh across her skin as he eyes grew dark as he intently set them on her. No one had ever looked at her like Jon did; like he wanted to devour her. It excited her and made her stomach clench at the same time.  
  


“Say something,” she whispered, nervous again and almost pleading.  
  


Jon’s eyes finally snapped from her breasts to her face. “You’re perfect,” he told her and this time, she didn’t tell him not to say that. That was exactly what she needed him to say. This was the first time they had seen each other (almost) naked and she couldn’t be blamed for being nervous about it and what he could possibly think.

He surged forward and his lips mated to hers and his hands went to the sides of her head. He lowered her down again and he laid himself on top of her, feeling her breasts crushed to his chest and if they just did this, if they just laid here and kissed for the rest of the night, it would be the best night, day, hours of his entire life.  
  


Sansa’s fingers went to his hair, slowly pulling the band out so the curls were free, and with slow movements, Jon trailed his hands down to her breasts. She moaned softly the first time he touched them – light and almost hesitant, moving slowly in case she wanted to stop him but stopping him was now the last thought in her mind. He pressed kisses down her throat again and then across her collarbone and down to one of the soft mounds. Her hands found home on his shoulders, holding onto him as if he was the only remaining solid thing in her world, and she gasped as his mouth found one of her nipples and suckled gently.

His scruff tickled her skin and his lips gently pulled on her nipple and she bowed her back from the bed. She held onto him as he moved to her other breast and bestowed the same attention upon it. Her throat was thick and she couldn’t breathe. She withered beneath him and he lifted his head from her chest, moving up and pressing his lips to hers.  
  


She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly and met each kiss of his with a kisses of her own. Her body was burning and the spot between her thighs was aching so painfully and now, even the jeans she wore was too much clothing. She whimpered again his mouth and rubbed her legs against his.

Her hands dropped down between their bodies and Jon could feel her fingers and what they were doing. He pushed himself on his knees and Sansa felt like releasing a sigh of relief as his fingers popped open the button and lowered the zipper. She lifted her hips and he pulled her jeans down her legs along with the underwear she was wearing and just like that, she was lying on her bed wearing absolutely nothing except her blue and white polka dot socks.  
  


Sansa looked to his face but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She opened her mouth to say something, to ask him to say something, but then he moved. She gasped as he bent down and pressed his mouth down to her stomach. She naturally sucked it in, as if trying to escape his lips, but her fingers went to his hair to let him know that she wanted him right where he was.

Jon closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her body and felt the softness of her skin. He heard her quick breathes, felt her breath heave in and out and he nuzzled his nose against her belly button. Her fingers were gentle in his hair, holding onto clumps of it but not pulling. He laid there for a moment, allowing himself to drown in her for a moment. In her warmth, in her scent – she smelled like blueberries tonight – and he inhaled her deeply.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs, moving himself even closer, staring at the most intimate part of her. And then slowly, he moved his fingers to part her folds, exposing more of herself to him. She smelled like heaven and he closed his eyes as the sweet scent wafted into his nose. He then opened his mouth and put it on her.  
  


She gasped sharply, her back bowing from the bed, and her fingers tightened in his hair but she still didn’t push him away. Jon wanted to moan as her taste swept over his tongue. His nose nuzzled against her clit, exposing it more to him, and his tongue slipped inside, past her folds. His fingers kept her spread apart and she felt herself lift her hips, pressing herself to his face. Her heart was pounding in her chest, trying to crack through her breastbone and she could feel every nerve in her body, expanding and sparking and she could hear it all popping in her ears.  
  


Her hands tugged on his hair, nails digging into his scalp and he kept moving his mouth against her, his tongue diving in even further. His thumb began rubbing in circles on her clit and he pressed his shoulders against the back of her thighs, pressing her legs up and further apart. She cried out his name and he heard it off in the distance, the inside of her thighs pressed against his ears. He concentrated and thought of nothing but her, tasting her, feeling her tremble around him and how wet she was getting as he licked and suckled her.  
  


His scruff was scratching her and she lifted her head for a moment, her eyes opening to see that his head was actually between her thighs. She dropped her head again and gripped his hair and moaned his name. She lost all track of time and so did he. All he knew was that he would remain down there for the rest of the night if this was what she wanted because she was crying out and so wet and all he wanted to do was give her pleasure for as long as she could stand it.  
  


But she came eventually, her legs clamping around his head and her nails digging in his scalp and she cried his name loudly out into the small bedroom. Her entire body quaked and burned and she felt as if she had forgotten how to breathe long ago.

Jon reluctantly pulled his mouth from her and he scraped it down one of her legs. Kneeling on the end of the bed, he then lifted one leg and then the other, taking her socks off. She laid there, panting, trembling, and her hands rested on her chest, feeling the racing of her heart. He stood up and unbuttoned and unzipped his own jeans, pushing them down and off along with his boxers, matching her nakedness. He came back onto the bed and laid himself on top of her. Her arms were instantly around him, still panting, holding onto him and she kissed him.

She tasted herself on his lips. Sweet and tangy and she almost recoiled because she didn’t know if she liked it. It was strange, thinking of what he had just been doing down to her between her thighs, to the most hidden part of her body, and now having him kiss her but after a moment, she pressed her lips back to his. It was something intimate and something between only them.  
  


He was so warm and heavy on top of her and she spread her thighs to cradle him. She felt the head of his erection poking gently against her opening, wanting to enter but he made no forward thrust to yet. Instead, he just kissed her over and over again as if they had all of the time in the world and there was nowhere either of them had to be ever again. And tonight, they didn’t. Tonight, this was their entire world. Just this room and this bed and them and she didn’t want to be anywhere else or do anything else except be with him right then and there.

Had she just met him a month before? Sansa felt as if Jon had always been here.  
  


“You’re trembling,” he pulled his lips away from hers, murmuring to her.  
  


“I am?” She hadn’t realized.  
  


He nodded and stared down into her eyes. “Are you okay?”  
  


“I’m excited,” she whispered and her words made him burst into a smile; a smile she returned. She ran her fingers through his hair and lifted her head, pressing her lips to his again and Jon was more than happy to kiss her in return.

He kissed her once more and then he sat up on his knees. He was glad he thought ahead and had already taken the condom from his wallet and brought it on the bed. She lifted her head on the pillow behind her and she couldn’t help but watch him as he carefully tore open the condom wrapper.

“Impressive,” Sansa said before she could stop herself and then slapped a hand over her mouth, shocked that she had actually said it.

“Thanks,” Jon just grinned as he slowly rolled the condom on

  
He then lowered himself back to her and he felt her thighs spread a bit more open, holding him between them and her arms slipped around his back, her hands on his skin and her smile soft and small. He smiled, too, and brushed his lips across hers.  
  


She felt the throbbing between her legs and could feel the head of his erection nudging at her again. She felt a wave of liquid rush inside of her and she was ready. So ready for him. But he reached down with his fingers to touch her and feel for himself though he knew, too, that she was. He then took his hand and wrapped it around himself, slowly guiding and pushing himself forward.  
  


Sansa couldn’t help but gasp softly as he began to enter her. It had been quite a while since Harry and the pressure was immediate. She felt her body parting and she could just imagine him pushing in, each inch deeper than the last, and she closed her eyes, willing herself to just relax.

  
Jon tried to breathe as he stared down at her; her parted lips and her heaving breasts and she was making these tiny moans. He hadn’t thought he could have been any harder but hearing those moans, he almost came right then and there. He paused for just a moment to collect himself. He could feel her slickness around him through the condom, could feel the heat and the tightness and he may not have seen every place in the world but he knew that being inside of Sansa, it was the only place he ever wanted to be.  
  


“Are you okay?” He asked in a whisper.  
  


Sansa opened her eyes and looked up at him. She smiled faintly, breathless, and nodded her head. He smiled, too, the instant he saw it and he bent forward, his lips pressing to hers. Her hands lifted to his cheeks and she kissed him as his hips continued moving forward, penetrating her slowly and completely and when he was entirely inside of her, embedded and settled, they breathed heavily and throbbed around one another.  
  


He kissed her over and over again and she slid her hands down his back, gripping his skin, holding onto him. He pulled his lips back the same time as he slid his hips back slowly and she moaned as he thrust back in, moving back inside of her. He rocked against her slowly, gently, and Sansa felt her eyes slide shut, feeling every inch of him, pursing her lips together and moaning softly. She felt herself squeeze herself around him and lift her hips slightly to meet his forward thrusts and Jon let out a quiet moan at the barrage of sensations; too many all at once.  
  


He was on his knees, bent over her, the backs of her thighs pressed to the tops of his, and her hands clutched his biceps, holding onto him as his body pounded into hers again and again. They were both panting and moaning softly, grunting and groaning each time their hips met and he sliced into her, parting her body for him.  
  


She tried to keep her eyes open but a part of her wanted to just lie there and feel everything he was doing to her. She couldn’t even explain what her body was feeling as they made love. She did know, without a doubt though, that this was what it was to make love with another person.  
  


Jon remained over her, pumping his hips back and forth, his rhythm steady and never quickening even as he stared at her; so overcome with everything happening. She was actually there, lying beneath him, her body clenched around him and he was the one making her whimper and gasp and it was his name she was moaning. Had he just met her the month before? He couldn’t remember what it had been like before her.  
  


His hands slid along her sides, holding onto her, as he sped up just a fraction. He could feel himself mounting towards the end and he was honestly surprised he had already lasted this long. In college, he knew the guys in porn going an hour weren’t the norm and his college girlfriend told him when he lasted three minutes, that was amazing. Tonight, he had already surpassed three minutes. They were nearing five, going on six, and his chest was burning and the blood was pumping frantically. He suddenly wished he was a porn star who could stay inside of her for hours.

But he was just a guy. Just guy having sex with his insanely hot girlfriend for the first time and six minutes was nothing to scoff about.  
  


He leaned into her and pressed his lips to the side of her throat, kissing and suckling skin, and Sansa’s hands moved up his back to his hair, hotly panting and moaning in his ear and it rapidly sent him hurtling towards his end. He dove his hand between their bodies and he fumbled for a moment before finding her clit. He began rubbing at it almost frantically because there was only one way he didn’t want this to end and that was him finishing before her.  
  


Sansa exploded. Her hips jerked and her body bowed and she just about burst into flames.

  
Jon’s hands grasped her hips and as she trembled and clenched and gushed around him, he slammed into her one more time and he heard the sound of wind and blood in his ears as he came, spilling into the condom, hips jerking and grunting as everything inside of him emptied.  
  


For a moment afterwards, there was nothing but their heavy panting in the room. Outside, they could hear a car driving down the street, the person’s music pounding too loud and it was a rap song.

_“I don’t know what you heard about me,_

_But a bitch can’t get a dollar out of me._

_No Cadillac, no perms, you can’t see,_

_That I’m a motherfucking P-I-M-P.”_

The car disappeared down the street and Jon and Sansa looked at one another. Then, at the same time, they began to laugh.

“So romantic,” she said, still laughing, and Jon, grinning, laid down on top of her for another kiss.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! 
> 
> Rickon starts at the pie shop in the next chapter.


	12. A Case of You

…

“Do you have any more slices of the brown sugar peach crumble?” The woman asked while pointing to the empty spot in the case where those pie slices had been.

Rickon sighed heavily. He looked to case, to the same empty spot. He then looked back to the woman, making sure that she couldn’t mistake how bored he was. “Nope. All gone,” he answered her.

“Hi!” His sister appeared next to him, her smile warm and kind at the woman. “May I help you?”

“I was wondering if you had any more brown sugar peach crumble slices,” the woman said, giving Rickon one last glance – as if she couldn’t figure him out – before looking to Sansa, returning her smile.

“I’ve discovered that that slice tends to sell out quickly,” Sansa said and she was still smiling as if she had never had a conversation as good as this one. “And what I have in the cases in the morning is all I have baked for the day. I have whole pies but I prefer to sell them as whole pies,” she explained.

Rickon knew that Sansa obviously relied on customers to keep this shop of hers open but this was his first afternoon working at _Flour Power_ and just two hours in, he already wanted to throttle every person who walked in through the door. Some of them had the dumbest questions – like this woman in front of him. If the case was empty and she didn’t see any more slices of a particular kind of pie, guess what? They were all sold out and there was no more left! Who could have seen that coming?

“I have a whole brown sugar peach crumble pie if you’d like or I still have cinnamon cream and pear slices left if you’d like one of those. They’re both delicious, if I do say so myself,” Sansa smiled with a light laugh and the woman smiled wider.

“I’ll take one of each,” the woman decided.

“Rickon, could you please box that up for me?” Sansa asked him as she rang up the slices on the register.

Rickon took two of the triangle-shaped cardboard boxes and got two of the slices that the lady was paying for, using the pie server because the first time that afternoon he had gotten a slice for a customer, he had reached for it with his bare hand and Sansa had looked so horrified, it was as if he had just murdered Lady in front of her. And normally Rickon wouldn’t care about horrifying his sister – as her younger brother, he _relished_ in it – but not when it came to this. He might not have acted like it but he _got_ how important this shop was to Sansa. To Grandpa. (And to mom, too.)

But just as he put the boxes on the counter, Joni Mitchell started playing.

Sansa had found “non-offensive” playlists to play in the shop; mostly music played in grocery stores. A lot of oldies and Motown and mellow classic rock. And also, apparently, Joni Mitchell.

Rickon completely froze. He knew he did and he tried to get himself to move again but he couldn’t because Joni was still playing and he _couldn’t_ move.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Sansa had noticed and for a second, she wasn’t sure what was happening but then without a word or making any kind of big deal about it, Sansa reached down to hit the “mute” button she had on the counter that controlled the speakers. Without missing a beat, she gave the woman her change and thanked her for stopping in. Rickon was still unable to move even as he yelled at himself to. It was just Joni fucking Mitchell. There was no reason for a complete breakdown.

The customer left and it was just Sansa and Rickon. He held his breath, expecting Sansa to say something about it but instead, Sansa just gave him the smallest smile.

“I think we’ll call it for the day. Could you please bring in the sign from the sidewalk?” She asked him.

Rickon nodded but he still couldn’t move.

_“You’re in my blood like holy wine,_ _  
_

_You’re so bitter and so sweet.  
_

_I could drink a case of you, darling,  
_

_And still be on my feet,_

_I would still be on my feet.”_

The stereo was still on mute but Rickon could hear the song playing in his head. He still had it memorized. He was sure everyone in his family still did even if they had gone months without hearing the song or the album. 

“I can’t listen to her either,” Sansa then said softly.

“It’s just a fucking song, Sansa,” Rickon snapped even though he truly didn’t mean to.

But Sansa didn’t even flinch. “It’s okay to not be able to listen to her, Rickon. No one will ever tell you that you have to listen to her and maybe, one day, you’ll hear her again and it will be okay.”

Rickon was going to say something to that; something just as dickish and rude, but he couldn’t. Instead, he turned his head to look to his older sister, who looked so much like…

_Mom._

He hadn’t told Sansa this but after mom died, he hadn’t wanted to be anywhere near Sansa. She was just so much like Catelyn – not just in looks but behavior and Rickon hadn’t been able to stand it. Sometimes, he still felt like that. It wasn’t Sansa’s fault but Rickon was pissed at everyone so Sansa wasn’t spared from that.

But hearing Joni Mitchell, he wasn’t pissed. He was frozen. Catelyn had played Joni Mitchell music all of the time, especially her album, _Blue_. Rickon had teased his mom for not listening to something “new” but Catelyn loved her classic folk music and Joni Mitchell had easily been her favorite.

(After she died, Ned had boxed all of Catelyn’s music and had donated it to a used bookstore because he couldn’t stand to hear it either and Rickon had pretended that he hadn’t noticed.)

“It’s okay, Rickon,” Sansa said softly and she then reached a hand out, resting it lightly on his shoulder.

That snapped Rickon out of it.

He was finally able to move and he did so, jerking himself away so Sansa wasn’t touching him anymore. Without a word, he stormed out from behind the counter and went to go get the stupid chalkboard on the sidewalk outside for her.

Outside, Rickon saw Sansa’s butcher boyfriend, Jon, helping a man, loading some packages into his backseat.

“Thanks a lot, Jon,” the man said, slamming the car door shut.

“Anytime, Earl,” Jon said, shaking the man’s hand.

Jon turned to head back into _The Meat Counter_ but he stopped when he saw Rickon outside now, too.

“Hey, Rickon.”

“Hey,” Rickon grunted, barely acknowledging him. He didn’t think he _had_ to acknowledge him. He was her sister’s boyfriend. That didn’t make him anyone special. Jeyne was Robb’s wife so she was family and Rickon looked at her as such but just some guy dating his sister? He wasn’t anyone.

And Rickon could still remember how disinterested Harry had been in Sansa’s family so he just assumed that her next boyfriend was much the same.

“Need any help?” Jon took a step towards him.

“Did I ask for help?” Rickon asked. The chalkboard sign _was_ a little heavy but Sansa dragged it out here every day without help and no offense to Sansa, but she was a girl and Rickon could handle this sign without help, too. He saw Jon still standing there and with a sigh, he looked at the man. “What?” He frowned.

“Nothing,” Jon shrugged casually. “Just getting some air. Sometimes, the store feels too stuffy and dealing with raw meats can get to my nose.”

“Sucks for you.” But Rickon found himself pausing. “Is that blood?” He then asked, looking to the white apron Jon was wearing, stained with dark streaks in some areas.

Jon looked down to the apron and gave a nod. “Some blood, yeah.”

“You actually cut meat?”

“That’s what a butcher does,” Jon smiled a little at that. “It’s not like a grocery store deli. Want to watch me for a little bit?” He then asked and that wasn’t at all what Rickon was ever expecting him to say.

Was he serious? Yeah, but he probably was only making the offer to get on Sansa’s good side; being nice to her little brother. But… they were already dating and Sansa had already introduced him to the family. Jon didn’t have to get on anyone’s good side. Their dad and grandpa already liked him; their siblings in agreement. Why would Jon care about getting _him_ to like him?

“I gotta help Sansa,” Rickon said because he really wanted to butcher some meat – what kind of knife did Jon use? – but he did have to help Sansa.

Something about his answer made Jon smile a little.

“Well, if you ever want to pop in and watch, you know where I am.”

Rickon looked at the man and gave a single nod before dragging the chalkboard sign to the door and Jon strode for it, grabbing the handle and pulling it open for him so Rickon could continue dragging the sign into the shop.

“Thanks, Jon,” he said so softly, he doubted Jon actually heard him; and Rickon was actually grateful that he might not have been able to hear him.

Jon followed Rickon into the shop and when Sansa stepped out of the walk-in refrigerator, putting the pies away for tomorrow, she burst into a smile the instant she saw Jon now there.

“Hey, you,” she beamed and Rickon saw the way the couple smiled at one another.

Disgusting, he frowned to himself.

“Hey. You and Lady want to come over after I close in a little bit?” Jon asked her.

“Dinner?” Sansa seemed excited at the idea.

Jon chuckled a little. “How do you feel about chicken enchiladas?”

Sansa smiled even more and she rested a hand over her heart. “Tomato paste,” she then told him and Rickon’s brow crinkled, looking back and forth between the two, having no idea what the Hell that meant.

“Tomato paste,” Jon echoed with eyes that looked to actually be twinkling as he looked at Sansa.

Rickon kept frowning and thinking the whole thing was disgusting but he had to admit. Sansa looked insanely happy and Rickon could never remember Harry looking at her the way Jon was looking at her right now.

…

“Lift your leg a little,” he told her and she instantly followed his direction, lifting her left leg, bending it back slightly and hooking it over his and they both moaned softly as he slid right into her.

“Jon,” Sansa gasped, keeping her eyes closed, her lips parting as she felt him stretch her body, amazed at how hard he was already. She had honestly never done this particular position before – she on her side, Jon spooning her from behind – but she could confirm that she already loved it. From this particular, different, angle, Jon could reach so deep within her. “God, Jon,” she moaned softly, arching her back just a bit more, his fingers curving around the back of her knee and pulling her leg up a bit more as he moved his hips back and forth, pounding her steadily from behind.

Sansa rocked back to meet his thrusts, it amazing to her how in sync they were with one another while having sex though this part of their relationship had only just happened. Was it possible that they were just _that_ in tune with one another? She had felt an attraction towards him the instant she saw him and she knew that Jon had felt the same towards her in that first moment, too. Since then, they had only been getting closer and closer and maybe being so good at sex together wasn’t that hard to understand. She certainly wasn’t complaining about it.

His hips slapped against her bottom, the soft smack of skin on skin echoing quietly throughout the room and she moaned, her fingers gripping the edge of the mattress, tightening around it, her knuckles turning white. But Jon didn’t let up. If anything, he pushed harder, his fingers digging into her skin, his cock burying itself inside of her so deeply, she rested a hand on her stomach, almost convinced that she could feel him in there.

Sansa knew that they had to be quiet. He had roommates and while Edd was already down at his pub, she could hear the television through Jon’s locked bedroom door and knew that Grenn and Ygritte were out there. She knew it would be quite obvious what she and Jon were doing in his bedroom behind the closed door but that didn’t mean that she necessarily wanted others to hear them going at it.

The softest cry escaped her lips though when Jon began playing with her clit and her orgasm seemed to slam into her immediately after. She knew she would probably shake herself right off the bed but Jon was gripping her thigh, holding her to him as he firmly kept pounding into her before he found his own end.

They laid there, breathing heavily and sweating, and Sansa’s eyes slid shut with a smile as Jon kissed the back of her head.

“I love you,” she said softly, no longer able to keep that to herself.

She was nervous. It was always nerve-wracking when saying those three words to anyone who wasn’t family but it was also a thought that shouldn’t be kept to one’s self when it was something they felt. Hearing those three words could be the best thing a person could ever hear and she _needed_ to Jon to hear her say that.

It was soon and could a person truly love another person in such an amount of time? Sansa liked to think so. She _knew_ so because she had kept her mother’s words close to her. She both liked Jon and loved Jon very much and there wasn’t a part of her brain or heart that double-guessed either of those feelings.

From behind her, Jon exhaled a deep breath; as if he had been holding it in for quite some time. His lips went back to her head and his arm tightened around her.

“I love you, too, Sansa,” he told her, speaking into her hair.

Sansa was right. Those three words were three of the best words a person could ever hear.

She melted into his embrace and she didn’t think she ever wanted to leave this exact spot. They laid there, in comfortable quietness, both still recovering from their lovemaking and reveling in the aftermath.

“How did you get a room this size?” Sansa suddenly asked. He even had a bay window, complete with a bench seat, it overlooking the street. “I would think Grenn and Edd would fight you for it.”

Jon grinned and slowly, pulled away so he could roll onto his back. Sansa rolled over onto her other side so she could face him. They were completely naked, lying on top of the covers, and with how cold it was outside, she knew that – technically – she should feel cold, too, but she couldn’t imagine being cold as long as she was next to Jon.

She was slightly obsessed with his body, she could admit. It was almost cruel that he looked as good as he did. He joked that he needed to start going to the gym with Grenn but Sansa didn’t know that it was actually possible for a real man – not one who modeled or was in movies or television – to have abs like Jon had.

“Grenn and Edd are cowards and they know that that’s what I think of them,” Jon said with a smile. “When we first rented this flat, neither of them wanted this room.”

“Why? Is it haunted?”

“I’m sure they tell themselves that so they feel better. They think that if an axe-wielding maniac breaks into the flat, he’ll kill me first since I’m the first room off the stairs.”

He turned his head on the pillow and looked at her with a grin but Sansa simply blinked at him.

“Oh my God, they’re right,” she said. Jon’s grin widened and lifting an arm, he wrapped it around her, pulling her in close. Sansa leaned in and kissed his chin. “I suppose it’s a nice room to be massacred in,” she decided.

…

“Sansa!”

She spun around to see Jon standing a few feet behind her, holding up another one. “What about this one?”

Sansa returned to him and inspected the pumpkin in between his hands. “Hmmmm. Nope. It’s too perfect.”

“And remind me why we don’t want perfect pumpkins.”

“Honestly, Jon, it’s not that hard to understand,” Arya overheard, appearing at their sides. “Everyone wants perfect pumpkins and no one wants these.” Her pumpkin was flatted on one side and bruised. “There’s nothing wrong with loving the less-than-perfect pumpkins, too.”

Jon smiled a little and shook his head. “You Starks are something else,” he commented.

Sansa laughed and gave him a quick kiss. “You haven’t figured that out already?” She looked to her sister. “Come help me, Arya. I haven’t found one yet. I think I want a bumpy pumpkin this year.”

Arya held her pumpkin and walked at Sansa’s side through the rows of pumpkin and Jon walked on Sansa’s other side. She didn’t know what sort of pumpkin he was looking for but he hadn’t grabbed one of the perfectly shaped pumpkins yet so there might be hope for him yet.

It was something Ned and Catelyn started with one another when they were first married and something that they then passed down to their children. They bought “ugly” pumpkins. Every year. Because as Sansa and Arya had explained to Jon, that was how Ned and Catelyn explained it to their kids. Everyone always looked at the perfect pumpkins and didn’t spare a second glance to those deemed imperfect.

“But who decides what’s a perfect pumpkin anyway?” Ned had asked them as the kids loved going to the pumpkin farm, running all over, looking for bumpy, misshapen and discolored pumpkins like a treasure hunt.

It might have seemed _slightly_ ridiculous but it was what the Stark family did and Sansa loved that she was able to now share it with this man who she loved and he hadn’t immediately told her that it was the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

Sansa glanced over when Jon’s cell began to ring and he stopped to answer.

“Hey, mom,” he greeted and then looked to Sansa, holding up a finger.

She gave him a smile and a nod as she continued on her way with Arya. She stopped to look at one pumpkin who seemed both quite misshapen _and_ bumpy. She might have a winner. With a soft grunt, she bent over to pick it up to inspect it closer.

“What do you think?” She asked Arya.

“Perfect,” Arya grinned and Sansa hugged it with both arms. “How is that going?” She asked, casually knocking her head back to reference Jon behind them.

“Perfect,” Sansa echoed the word. “It truly is. I feel so lame, being so happy.”

“Why is that lame?”

Sansa paused, thinking the question over, and then shook her head. “I’m scared that it’s too fast and we both just rushed into this and it will end just as quickly.”

Arya was quiet, thinking that over. She seemed to be recalling something but Sansa didn’t know what it would be. Before she could ask, Arya then shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s something you ever need to worry about,” she let Sansa know. “You told him about the pumpkin tradition and he didn’t immediately think our whole family was insane. He also always looks at you like there’s sunshine coming out of your ass and it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.”

“Arya,” Sansa laughed, her cheeks bursting into flames. Even on her way to become a doctor, Arya was still Arya. “It _would_ be pretty amazing if sunshine came out of me from _that_ end.”

“Pretty hot, too. Temperature speaking,” Arya said with a grin.

“Sorry about that,” Jon joined them again.

“That’s alright,” Sansa turned, giving him a smile. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good.” He seemed so pleased that she had asked. “She was taking a bit of a vacation in Myr but she’s coming back this weekend and she said that she would love to meet you. Would you be able to come out to dinner with us and meet my mom?”

Sansa didn’t mean to. She knew it was completely an _over_ reaction but she couldn’t stop and help herself.

At Jon’s question – and at the idea of meeting Jon’s mom – the pumpkin slipped from her arms; luckily being saved by Jon’s quick reflexes before it could make impact with the ground but Sansa hardly noticed. Meeting Jon’s mom this weekend? Why was she suddenly completely terrified?

…

One of my favorite songs ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! Who's ready for Lyanna Snow's first appearance?


	13. Meeting Mom

…

When her mom got so sick, Sansa’s entire world became her and being with her family. She admitted that hanging out with friends, going out to clubs and parties and random dinners, fell very low on her list of priorities. Not only was she wanting to spend every moment she could with her mom and family, she was already beginning to think of _Flour Power_ and how to make it a reality.

Friendships faded and disappeared. Many still came to Catelyn’s funeral but even then, it was hard for the friendships to be maintained. Sansa didn’t fault them and she tried to not blame herself. There were still all young and none of them knew how completely life-changing it could be to lose a parent. Sansa changed. She knew she did and she and her friends, who had been on the same path, suddenly took sharp turns away from one another. She missed them sometimes but she knew that she had done what was best for her at the time.

But right now, Sansa wished she had a friend who could help her.

She had Arya, yes, and the two sisters had become _so_ close – Arya much like Sansa and having lost friends during Catelyn’s illness and after her death – but Arya had lab today and could not be bothered.

Sitting on her bed, Sansa scrolled through her phone, wondering who she could call for such a situation. The last contact in her list made her thumb pause. She wouldn’t mind. Sansa knew she wouldn’t and yet, it was one of those situations where Ygritte was Jon’s friend more than hers. Sansa liked Ygritte very much and they talked often so she knew that Ygritte liked her, too. But still… were they friends enough for this?

There was no harm in asking, Sansa told herself. If she couldn’t, she couldn’t, and Sansa would just have to figure this out on her own.

She took a deep breath before pressing the button to call Ygritte. She listened to it ring, going over in her head what she was going to say and how to explain the reason for her call.

“Hi, Sansa,” Ygritte answered on the cusp of the fifth ring, just as Sansa was about to hang up, sounding breathless. “Sorry about that. I lock my phone in my desk drawer while I’m teaching. Trying to set a good example and all of that.”

“That’s alright,” Sansa smiled. “And I didn’t mean to bother you while you’re still working.”

“You’re not bothering me. You’re _saving_ me. We’re focusing on the periodic table of elements and it’s actually something they should have _started_ to learn in fifth and sixth grade but I quickly learned that that’s just not true. These homework assignments are making me want to quit and run away from all responsibilities.”

“I always liked Tungsten. Symbol W,” Sansa said with the slightest laugh. “I just like the sound of it.”

It made Ygritte laugh, too. “That is something very good to know. My respect for someone immediately goes through the roof if they can name an element besides the obvious ones. You just shot into outer space.”

“What is Grenn’s favorite element?” Sansa then asked.

“You mean the idiot I live with who says it’s Iron because that’s what his muscles are made out of?”

“Oh, God,” Sansa laughed while groaning at the same time and Ygritte laughed, too. “I, um, I was actually calling you because I was hoping you could help me with something.”

“Of course!” Ygritte instantly jumped to volunteer and sounded happy to do so.

Sansa couldn’t stop from exhaling a breath of relief, actually not caring if Ygritte had heard it or not.

…

“Do you know where you’re going?” Ygritte asked just forty minutes later as she stood in front of Sansa’s closet, going over possible options.

“Simple,” Sansa answered, having to constantly stop herself from bringing her fingers to her mouth so she could chew her nails. “Jon said it’s his mom’s favorite place in Winterfell and I looked at the menu. It’s like a café-slash-coffee shop and seems pretty casual but still…”

“Got it. Casual but not too casual.”

Sansa let out a nervous laugh. “Do I even have anything like that? Who does? _What_ is that?”

“Hey.” Ygritte reached out and squeezed her arm. “We’ll find you something. And if we don’t, you’d be completely fine just wearing what you’re wearing right now.”

Sansa looked down to what she was wearing. Skinny jeans and a large, grey turtleneck sweater. She couldn’t possibly be _this_ casual to meet Jon’s mom. This was Jon’s _mom_. This was the woman who gave birth to the man Sansa was deeply and hopelessly in love with and she couldn’t wear jeans.

She supposed she deserved this. She had teased Jon for being so nervous before he met her family and when Ygritte had called, asking her to describe casual to Jon, Sansa had had to practically bite her tongue to keep from laughing. She found how nervous Jon was to be both ridiculous and adorable but she wished he hadn’t been feeling that way before meeting her family.

She knew that she should have the same outlook right now and not be completely petrified over meeting Lyanna Snow in just an hour but even telling herself, the truth was, she couldn’t shake herself out of it.

This was Jon’s mom and she so desperately wanted Lyanna Snow to like her.

“Actually, I think what you’re wearing is exactly what you should wear,” Ygritte decided after studying Sansa’s outfit for another minute. “You look perfect.”

Sansa doubted that. She had been working in her shop all day and according to the pictures on the website for Simple, it truly was a casual eatery but Sansa could not meet Jon’s mom in jeans.

“Lyanna is super cool. She really is,” Ygritte read her mind. “And it helps that Jon is absolutely insane for you and that you’re super cool, too.”

If Sansa wasn’t seconds away from a full blown panic attack, she would have hugged Ygritte tightly for that.

Instead, she knew she had to talk with Jon. It was time for the dreaded phone call.

…

Lyanna Snow rented a flat in Winterfell since she traveled all over Westeros and Essos, selling _Myrmen Wine_. It was much easier than a house that she had to constantly worry about maintaining and Jon was busy enough with his own life and shouldn’t have to worry about looking after his mom’s house she was never in. He was sweet enough to empty her PO box at the post office a couple of times a week and bring the mail to her flat while checking on the snake plant she had growing in the living room window.

She may have constantly be traveling and even after all this time, she considered Myr to be her home, but Winterfell was her home, too, because this was where her son was and this was where they had settled after moving away from Essos for back to Westeros.

After arriving from the airport and taking a cab to her flat – she had refused to allow Jon to leave his shop to pick her up at the airport – Lyanna stepped through the front door, inhaling a deep breath. _Home_.

She wheeled her suitcase into her bedroom, made sure the front door was locked and took a shower straight away to wash the “travel” off of her. Her phone was ringing just as she was out again and changing into sweatpants and a tee-shirt for the time being. She was meeting Jon and his new girlfriend at Simple, her absolute favorite café to eat at in Winterfell and that place, she could very easily wear this attire and no one would look at her twice but she wanted to meet Jon’s girlfriend wearing something a little more appropriate.

“Hello, love,” Lyanna answered, smiling as soon as she saw Jon’s face on the phone’s front screen.

“I hadn’t been able to go to your flat for a few days. Is everything alright there?” Jon asked.

“Oh, not at all. I walked in and there was glass everywhere and the living room window was broken.” She did her best to keep her tone serious but she absolutely loved having fun with Jon and she wasn’t able to hide her smile. She knew Jon could hear it, too, and she perfectly imagined him rolling his eyes.

“Hilarious,” he responded dryly and Lyanna just laughed. “So, I told Sansa that we’d be heading to Simple around five. Would you like me to pick you up or would you like to meet us there?”

“I’ll meet you there,” Lyanna decided without needing to think it over. “I might want to do some shopping afterwards. Unless you want to come with me?” She offered.

“God, no,” Jon’s answer was immediate and she laughed.

Lyanna admitted that she did love to shop. She never used to. When Jon was a baby and a little boy, she grew to love it; finding the most adorable clothes for him. And then she got the job with _Myrmen Wine_ as a saleswoman and suddenly, her wardrobe became immensely important. Now, she could shop for hours if she was shopping for clothes.

She stretched out on her couch with a relaxed sigh. “I am so excited to see you and meet Sansa.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you sooner. The shop has just been absolutely insane today.”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You taking care of your butcher shop is far more important. As long as I get to see you tonight and meet Sansa, I’ll be a happy mama.”

Jon chuckled lightly at that. “I’m really excited for you to meet Sansa, too. She’ll probably be scared out of her mind to meet you.”

“Oh, I don’t want her to be.”

“It doesn’t matter. She will be.” He paused. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Lyanna smiled and then continued before Jon could ask her how. “I still have the first text message you sent me that mentioned her. _There’s a pie shop that’s opened next door to the Meat Counter and it’s owned and run by a woman named Sansa. I think I’m going to ask her out._ ”

“Why do you have that? And more than that, why do you have it memorized?” Jon wondered.

“I don’t know. There was just something about it. Yes, it’s a text and I obviously couldn’t get a tone from reading it and yet… I know you, Jon, and I could just _tell_. I knew tonight would happen eventually. There was no way you weren’t going to have Sansa be a part of your life.”

Jon was quiet, thinking that over, and Lyanna didn’t say anything else. She didn’t think she had to.

…

Sansa had called him, telling him she had no idea what to wear, and Jon would laugh because she had sounded so amused when the same call had been made before meeting her family but he stopped himself before he could because it sounded like she was about to cry.

“What are you wearing right now?” Jon asked.

Sansa’s voice trembled but he did his best to not focus on that. “Jeans and a sweater,” she said.

“That’s perfect because that’s exactly what I’m wearing. Well, not _exactly_. I’m wearing jeans and a Henley and one of my flannel shirts. See? Casual.”

She sniffed. “Casual,” she echoed.

And when Jon came to her flat to pick it her up, he gave her an instant smile upon seeing her. Her hair was down and she wore her jeans and a baggy grey turtleneck sweater. She was wearing a blue wool coat that was unbuttoned and when she came to him on the sidewalk, Jon circled his arms around her waist; his arms sliding inside of her coat. And Sansa lifted her arms around his shoulders.

“Have you studied the menu?” He asked.

She nodded her head against his shoulder. “Of course I have,” she murmured and he smiled at that, turning his head so he could kiss her on hers.

Simple was on the next street over from theirs and Jon held Sansa’s hand as they walked.

“I was going to bake her a pie but I didn’t know what she would like or hate and since her son is more of a cake person-”

“Whoa,” Jon cut in and smiled when he made her laugh. “I think it’s safe to say I’ve been converted to now being a proud pie man.”

“Proud pie man,” Sansa repeated, laughing again.

Jon just smiled and lifted their hands, giving her knuckles a kiss. “My mom loves anything with mint. Thin mint cookies, mint chocolate chip ice cream. Mint _anything_.”

Sansa was quiet at that and looking to her, he could nearly physically see the recipes flipping through her mind. Jon didn’t disturb her and just kept holding her hand and walking her towards the café.

Simple was misleading, in Jon’s opinion. Their menu had a hint of French flair to it and simple wasn’t exactly how Jon would describe that particular cuisine. But it was damn good “simple” food and anytime his mom was in town and both of their schedules lined up, they almost always came here to eat together at least once.

Looking through the front window, Jon saw his mom there, sitting at one of the square tables. Jon pulled the door open and let Sansa walk in first and he loosened his hand – just slightly and just in case she wanted him to let go of her hand but he should have known better. Sansa gripped his hand and didn’t let go.

He supposed it was obvious as to which woman in the café was his mom. He had to get his black curly hair from someone and even with hers pulled back in a ponytail, what kind of hair she had was obvious.

Lyanna was watching for them and when they entered, she burst into a smile and hurried to her feet.

“Jon!” She beamed and Jon smiled widely at her, walking to her, hugging her with one arm as Lyanna engulfed him with both of hers. She peppered his face with kisses and Jon laughed, slightly embarrassed and yet, also quite used to such displays from his mom.

“Mom, this is Sansa,” he said, looking to his mom and then to Sansa.

“Of course it is,” Lyanna smiled, her eyes set on Sansa, and she looked so happy. “It is so lovely to meet you.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, too, Ms. Snow,” Sansa managed a smile and with her hand tucked into his, he could actually feel her trembling. He gave it a squeeze, hoping to calm her down.

“Come here, dear,” Lyanna said and she then hugged Sansa as tightly as she had hugged Jon.

Slowly, Jon let go of Sansa’s hand, freeing it up, and slowly, Sansa wrapped both of her arms around Lyanna. Jon hadn’t thought of this but he should have. He _should_ have. His mom was hugging Sansa and it looked like Sansa was going to start crying. She closed her eyes before she could and seemed to begin to hug Lyanna back as tightly. Jon hadn’t told his mom about Sansa’s mom and he wondered if he should have.

But Lyanna didn’t seem to mind the hug that was going on and on. Actually, she was smiling and she rubbed a comforting hand up and down Sansa’s back and she didn’t seem to be in a hurry for the hug to end.

…

“You kids get anything you want,” Lyanna told them once they all sat down, she on one side of the table and Jon and Sansa sitting together on the other side, and their coats were hanging on the back of their chairs. The waitress then appeared just as Jon and Sansa began looking over their menus. “I’ll have a mint lemonade and a small glass of water. Tap is fine,” Lyanna ordered so to give them both more time to decide their drinks.

“I’ll have a ginger soda,” Jon decided.

“Strawberry lemonade, please,” Sansa finished.

The waitress left to go get the first part of their order and Jon smiled at Sansa.

“Alright. Let’s hear it,” he said and Sansa looked at him with the smallest smile.

Lyanna could tell that the girl was still horribly nervous and she wished that she wasn’t. There was no reason for her to be. Her son loved this woman and that was good enough for Lyanna. She had always known her son to have a wonderful judge of character and Lyanna could see for herself that Sansa looked at Jon the same way he looked at her.

“The warm goat cheese salad sounds like something dreams are made of,” Sansa said and he laughed. She looked to Lyanna. “Every new restaurant we go to, I have to study the menu beforehand online. I need to know what I’m walking into,” explained.

“Someone who likes to be prepared. I like that,” Lyanna nodded with approval. “I’ve never been one for surprises.” She cocked her head towards Jon. “This one was the biggest and last I would have, I decided, and now, I’m very meticulous.”

“I saw the picture of Jon as a baby and one of your professors was holding him during class. It seriously was one of the most adorable things I had ever seen.”

“Yes, let’s talk about me as a baby. A _perfect_ dinner conversation to have,” Jon frowned a little.

“I have so many pictures to show you, Sansa,” Lyanna said, pulling her phone from her purse.

“Christ, mom. Can we at least wait for dessert before you bust out the pictures of me,” Jon sighed.

“Since when do you order dessert at restaurants?” Lyanna smiled, already knowing the answer.

“Since I started dating a baker and she showed me the error of my ways.” Jon gave Sansa a smile for that and Sansa smiled, blushing faintly, and she leaned into him for a moment.

“How was he as a baby, Ms. Snow?” Sansa asked.

“Lyanna, dear, and he was _so_ good. To the point where I thought something was horribly wrong with him.”

Sansa laughed softly at that. “That actually doesn’t surprise me whatsoever. He seems like he would be quite the broody baby.”

“The broodiest,” Lyanna agreed. “Quiet and good but so broody.”

Sansa’s smile widened at that and she leaned into Jon again. Jon smiled a little and shook his head before giving a quick, casual kiss to the top of Sansa’s head.

The waitress arrived with their drinks and Sansa ordered the warm goat cheese salad, Lyanna ordered the French onion soup because it was such a massive portion, that came with thick croutons, it was always more than enough to fill her up, and Jon ordered the eggs Benedict.

“How long are you in town for?” Jon asked before taking a sip of his ginger soda.

“A month,” Lyanna smiled, pleased when her boss had let her know. “I’ll be here for Thanksgiving and then I have to head down to Casterly Rock for a couple of weeks and then I’m back for Christmas.”

“That’s awesome,” Jon burst into a smile at that and Lyanna smiled, too.

Sometimes, her schedule didn’t care about the holidays and the holidays were some of the busiest times for _Myrmen Wine_. She knew Jon spent Thanksgiving and Christmas – both very big times of the year for his butcher shop as well – with friends but she hated the idea of them not spending those days together.

But now, looking at Jon and Sansa across from her, smiling at one another, Lyanna had to wonder if Jon would want to spend Thanksgiving or Christmas with his mom or if he’d spend all of his time with Sansa. She knew that Sansa obviously had her own family to spend the day with but would she be against having Thanksgiving with her and Jon? Lyanna already knew she wanted to spend much more time with Sansa.

After all, it was clear that this woman was going to be her daughter-in-law.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!!


	14. Two Month Milestone

…

After the butcher shop closed early on Saturday, Jon had a list of errands to run – grocery shopping, the bank, his reading glasses had needed an adjustment so he had to pick those up, and he also had to go buy himself some more socks. He and Sansa weren’t meeting until later that evening – around six – and Jon had plenty of time to do everything he needed so Sunday could be spent, completely relaxing and doing nothing at all.

Maybe he and Sansa could take Ghost and Lady to the park for another picnic tomorrow. It would be cold – possible frigid – but they might have the whole park to themselves that way.

Halloween was that night and the stores were all decorated to the nines for the holiday – orange and black everywhere and a few kids, already changed into their costumers, were running up the street, shouting to and shrieking with one another.

Jon was going to be honest. He sometimes really missed being able to put on a costume and go out for two hours, ringing every doorbell that he possibly could in the allotted time frame, asking for candy. He saw some parents going with their kids this night. Jon already knew he would definitely take his kids trick-or-treating. It would be a good excuse to get out there again.

Their street never got trick-or-treaters. It just wasn’t possible. Everyone lived in flats above businesses and going out to the neighborhoods and suburbs of houses was just easier for the kids. Still, Jon bought himself a bag – or three – of Halloween candy from the grocery store because why not?

Standing in front of the display in the grocery store, Jon pulled out his phone and hit Sansa’s number.

“Hey, you,” she answered with a smile and Jon smiled just because she was.

“Hey. I’m at the grocery store and I was going to buy us some candy but I actually don’t know what your favorite Halloween candy is.” He knew so much about her already but he still didn’t know everything and he loved that he didn’t because every new thing he found out, it just made him love her more.

Sansa was still smiling. “Do they have a bag of the Hershey’s miniatures? It should have Hershey, Dark Hershey, Mr. Goodbar and Krackel.”

Jon found it almost immediately and he took a bag from the shelf. “Got it. This is your favorite?”

“I know,” she laughed a little. “I’m so boring. You don’t have to tell me. My siblings tease me enough for it.”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” Jon said and he meant that. “I love that out of every kind of Halloween candy, you just want Hershey’s chocolate.”

“My mom always teased me, too, that for such a sophisticated sweet palate, I still loved Hershey’s chocolate instead of something _far_ fancier.” She laughed again and Jon grinned. “What about you?” She then asked.

Jon searched the shelves for his preferred Halloween candy. “I love Whoppers and Snickers but they’re never in the same bag so I have to pick and choose either or every year.”

“Why don’t you just buy the two bags they’re in?” Sansa wondered.

“Because I’m dating a baker and we’re also trying to eat our way through Winterfell. I need to show _some_ restraint, Sansa,” he informed her and his explanation only made her laugh. Jon smiled. “While I’m here, do you need me to pick up anything?” He asked.

He put Sansa’s chocolates into the shopping cart and then found himself a variety bag that included Whoppers and added those to the cart as well. He began pushing it down the main aisle, towards the produce. He didn’t have a list with him for this trip. He needed things, yes, but that was mainly milk, bread and ice cream. Everything else he picked up was just going to be a spur of the moment purchase, he knew.

“I actually could use some peanut butter, if you wouldn’t mind,” Sansa answered.

“For eating or for baking?”

Jon knew that for baking, Sansa wanted smooth and for eating herself, she preferred crunchy. He had also learned that Sansa and her entire family were mad for peanut butter; somewhat addicted to it and he had actually never met people who loved peanut butter quite as much.

“Smooth, please. My dad requested chocolate peanut butter bars for dessert after Sunday dinner tomorrow so that’s what he’ll get.”

“You got it,” Jon smiled. “Anything else?”

After talking with Sansa for a moment more, Jon hung up and made quick work of the store despite going up and down every aisle. He knew what he generally bought and where it was and was able to be in and out within a half hour, having gotten everything he – and Sansa – needed.

It was a frigid day with grey clouds hanging low in the sky, threatening to dump snow for trick-or-treating. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time kids in Winterfell would be going out on Halloween, trudging through snow. Jon just hoped it held off until he, with Ghost, were in Sansa’s flat for the night.

His bank was in the same parking lot as the grocery store so Jon headed there next and as he waited in line at the drive-through, he noticed something. Something he had passed countless times before now but had never really noticed it before. Across the street, in a building built with a White Castle on one side and a shoe store on the other side, ASSOCIATED BARBER COLLEGE. How long had that been there? Jon had a feeling it had been there for years and years and he only noticed it now because he actually had a reason to notice it.

After making his deposit into the butcher shop account, getting his paper statement back and slipping it into his wallet, Jon drove across the street, finding a spot near the college. It actually seemed a little full. Jon didn’t know exactly what he was doing or _why_ he was doing it but he did it anyway. He walked into the building and took a moment to look around.

There was a large open room with stations in rows, some with men sitting in the chairs and the barbers – Jon assumed the students – standing behind them, cutting their hair as another gentlemen or two walked up and down, observing and sometimes stopping to say something or show something.

“Welcome!” An older woman holding a clipboard to her chest approached him with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“I… you’re open to the public?” Jon asked despite the sign posted on the front door that said exactly that.

“We are. We’re always looking for some new victims for our barber students to get training on,” the woman laughed. “Kidding, of course. We’ve only had a handful of customers who’ve left here, bleeding.” She added that last part and Jon didn’t think she was kidding about that.

“Jon?”

Jon’s head turned as soon as he heard his name and he smiled with relief. “Hey. I was hoping you were here.”

“I’m always here,” Bran Stark came up to him with a happy grin, wearing his white barber’s coat. “Need all the hours I can get. You want a haircut?”

“Sure,” Jon answered because if he wasn’t here for a haircut, why the Hell else would he be here?

He followed Bran to a free station and as he settled himself in the leather chair, Bran whipped out a fresh apron bib to fasten over Jon and around his neck.

“You mind?” Bran asked, standing behind Jon and looking at him in the mirror.

“I suppose that would help,” Jon smiled a little and Bran just grinned, pulling out the band that Jon wore to hold his hair back that day. Bran shook it out so he could take a look at Jon’s curls, hanging down to his shoulders. “It’s gotten a lot longer than I usually wear it. I just haven’t had time to get a cut.”

“How short do you want it?” Bran asked. “Your jawline, maybe? If I cut it shorter than that, it will spring up too much and give you a mushroom head effect. And if that happens, we might as well just shave your head and start over but your hair is too awesome to just shave it.”

“I think everyone would have a heart attack if I showed up with that look,” Jon said. He expected to feel nervous for some reason. After all, Bran was just a student and Jon admitted that he _did_ love his hair.

“The jawline would be best,” Bran then decided. “I’m not looking to have my sister murder me because I messed your hair up.”

Jon smiled at that. “You’re the professional.”

“Not yet,” Bran smiled, too. “But almost.” He grabbed a spray bottle of water from this station and began misting and wetting Jon’s hair.

“It sounds like you doing this surprised everyone. At least from what I’ve gotten when Sansa talks about it.”

Bran was still smiling so at least Jon knew that he hadn’t insulted him.

“Mom dying just changed _everything_. I didn’t want to spend the next ten years of my life, studying and taking tests and getting degrees. My mom was healthy one day and then she fainted the next from a brain tumor. I knew I had to do something else more than just be a student.”

“So… barber?”

Bran laughed a little. “I know my family doesn’t get it even though they try. They always thought I’d be working away in a science lab somewhere or in a hospital, but… I’m happier doing this than I ever was doing anything else. And before she died, I told my mom that I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. Sansa and her baking, that was _cemented_ but the rest of us, we were just going through the steps, you know? Doing what we thought we had to do. So my mom asked me what I wanted to do and I just want to make people happy. And it’s simple. When people get a good haircut, something as simple as that, can make them happy.”

Jon sat still as Bran took his scissors and comb and began cutting. He thought over Bran’s words.

“It makes sense to me,” he said, meaning it. He owned a butcher shop which was hard work but compared to other things, it could be considered simple. He considered himself just a simple butcher. He just loved what he did and he liked helping people and seeing them smile when he helped them in the way they needed.

Bran looked at him in the mirror, pausing in his snipping, and he gave him a smile. “Thanks, Jon.”

Jon smiled, too. “Pay attention to what you’re doing, yeah? I’m not paying if you ruin me.”

Bran just laughed at that and resumed snipping away once again.

…

After a simple dinner of spaghetti and garlic bread – along with glasses of a dark red _Myrmen Wine_ , courtesy of his mother – and Jon began helping Sansa clean the kitchen, something happened. Something he was nowhere _near_ ready to happen while in Sansa’s presence.

“Shit,” he swore quietly to himself. Sansa lifted her head from where she was finishing scrubbing the pot in the sink. “I’m sorry. I have to run home real quick.”

“Is everything alright?” Sansa frowned a little, understandably concerned. She turned the water off and set the pot upside down to dry on the towel on the counter before turning towards him.

“Everything’s fine. I just have to use the bathroom.”

Sansa’s frown began to ease as her brow crinkled, now confused. “I have a bathroom here, Jon,” she pointed out the obvious to him, pointing over his shoulder in case he forgot where it was in her flat.

“No, I know. I just have to do something in the bathroom that I don’t want to do in yours.”

Sansa wasn’t stupid and it took her all of a second for her to figure out what he was talking about. Jon was prepared to be completely mortified but instead, Sansa didn’t seem to have any kind of reaction to that; not like one that he was clearly expecting. Instead, she shrugged.

“Everyone does that, Jon. It’s considered healthy, you know.” She gave him the faintest smile. “And don’t be silly. You’re not going to go all the way home, do that, and then come back here again. You can turn on the vent if it makes you feel better.”

“Sansa,” he began to protest her suggestion; her very logical suggestion but one he wasn’t comfortable at all with following through.

“While you’re seeing to that, I’m going to fix us some tea and get into my pajamas.”

“Sansa,” he tried again.

She went to him and sliding her arms around his waist, she gave him the lightest kiss. “You’re being stupid.”

That was it. That was all she said before she gave him another kiss and then slipped away from him to go into her bedroom to change. Jon paused for another moment more. He wouldn’t be able to make it all the way back to his flat and that would lead to something even more mortifying than doing this in his girlfriend’s flat.

He didn’t have a choice. He knew he could act like he did but he really didn’t.

With a sigh, he went into the bathroom, locked the door behind him and made sure the vent was flipped on.

…

Both changed into their pajamas with steaming cups of tea, they had their bags of candy open on the coffee table and they settled into “The Blair Witch Project” on television. They both agreed that they had to watch at least one horror movie on Halloween. Ghost was chewing on a rawhide bone on the floor between the television and the coffee table and Lady was sleeping on the other side of Sansa on the couch as she usually did this time of night.

“The only part of this movie that scares me is the ending,” Sansa said as she unwrapped a little Hershey bar.

“Do you remember when this one came out? Everyone was losing their mind over it and then, they couldn’t make enough of these ‘found footage’ movies. I never liked them.”

“What? Then why are we watching this?” Sansa asked, sitting up and taking the remote control. “I bet we can find something that we both want to watch. And you won’t even meet my eye.”

“What?” Jon’s eyes flew to hers. “Yes, I am.”

“No. Yes, you’re looking at me _now_ but you haven’t looked at me since we’ve sat down on the couch. Are you really that embarrassed?”

“Of course I am. Couples don’t do this when they’re in a close proximity yet. We’ve only been dating two months. I haven’t even cut wind in front of you yet.”

Sansa pursed her lips together, a giggling bursting through anyway. “Cut wind?”

“It’s about being proper in front of one another, Sansa, at least for the first six months or so,” he informed her as if this was officially written down somewhere and was something every couple had to follow.

“But we’re not perfect humans, Jon, or robots,” she reminded him. “And human bodies like to make noise.”

“Listen.” He sat up and leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You’re the most wonderful, beautiful and perfect girl I’ve ever dated and bodily functions or noises aren’t going to ruin this for me.”

Sansa was quiet for a moment and when he looked over his shoulder back at her, she was frowning. She then reached one of her feet out and kicked him – gently – in the side.

“I’m not perfect and don’t you dare think I am.” Her frown deepened. “And do you think I’m that shallow where I would end this relationship because of _normal_ bodily functions or noises?”

“Of course I don’t-” he began to say but Sansa continued one.

“And what if we get married? Will you still hold everything in and wait until I’m away from home?”

Jon blinked at her, having forgotten about what they were talking about within an instant; which was surprising considering what they were talking about.

“Married?”

Sansa looked at him as if she didn’t know what she had said but then her cheeks turned pink. She bravely kept her eyes locked with his. “I know it’s only been two months and I don’t want to scare you by even mentioning that word out loud in your presence-”

“Mention it,” it was Jon’s turn to cut in. He turned back towards her and his hands slid onto her cheeks, his thumbs caressing her skin as he looked into her eyes. “You think about that?”

Sansa swallowed and then paused another moment before nodding. “I do. Still on their first date, my dad knew he wanted to marry my mom and I know that not every relationship is like that. Not even close. And I don’t want to rush anything between us but… I always wanted something what my parents had for myself and I’ve had other boyfriends but you’re the first one I’ve ever thought the ‘m’ word with.”

Jon didn’t know what he was feeling. He had never felt it before. His girlfriend was talking about marriage – between them – and they had only been dating for two months. But instead of bolting for the door while panicking that he had found himself in some _Lifetime_ movie, he was staring into her eyes and he didn’t feel scared. At all. In fact, his stomach felt tight – as if he was excited.

Suddenly, Sansa talking about marriage – or at least mentioning it – now it had Jon thinking about it, too, but not in a “It’s way too soon” way, but rather a “It’s not the craziest thing I’ve ever heard” kind of way.

“But I have one bathroom and we’re not going to move to a place with two bathrooms just because you won’t do a normal bodily function while I’m in the same proximity.”

That last bit from her made him smile and Sansa smiled, too.

“Are we really talking about this?” She then asked – quiet and hesitant. Her eyes still looked into his and rubbed her lips together – as if she definitely needed to get moisture on them.

Jon helped her out by leaning in and kissing her; tasting the tea and Hershey chocolate from her mouth. He deepened the kiss, wanting more; _always_ wanting more when it came to this girl and he didn’t care what she said. Sansa Stark truly was wonderful, beautiful and perfect.

He slowly pulled his face back so he could look into hers once again. Her eyes opened and Jon leaned in again, resting his forehead to hers, his mind made up. “Yes, we’re really talking about this.”

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! A shorter chapter than usual but that was only because this is going to lead to the rest of this story and the direction it is taking.


	15. Clue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the *original* chapter 15 I posted last night, you will see that that was deleted and I wrote this today instead. The Rickon portion of the story was getting away from me and honestly, he was ruining everything. This is a "baker and butcher falling in love story" and we're going to keep it that way. Yes, Rickon will still be around but he will no longer dominate things. He still needs help but more than that, we have Jon and Sansa merging their lives together as they fall more in love and that's the story I'm sticking with.

…

Yes, everything was just about perfect, Sansa knew, but that didn’t stop her from going over everything. Just one more time. Food? Check. Drinks? Check. Movie? Ready to go. Her costume? Sansa went back into her bedroom to take one more look at herself. Good. Lady’s peacock feathers? Sansa turned to Lady, who was lying on her bed, but when she saw Sansa looking, she lifted her head and swept her tail back and forth.

“You look perfect, Lady,” Sansa complimented her and straightened Lady’s costume just a little.

Most dogs she knew would had done their best to shake this right off their bodies but not Lady. When the package arrived and Sansa eagerly showed her dog what it was, Lady sat and stared at it but didn’t immediately run away or growl at it. And she had sat patiently as Sansa fastened it onto her, trying to see how it looked and if it fit properly. It had come with a headpiece but Sansa hadn’t even attempted that. Lady might have been the perfect dog but Sansa wasn’t looking to torture her. The peacock feathers fastened around her middle were more than enough and her beautiful dog made the most beautiful peacock.

Sansa leaned over, scratching Lady behind both ears, kissing her snout and laughing as Lady licked her nose.

She heard the front door open followed with, “Sansa?”

“Back here!” She answered back and a moment later, Jon entered the bedroom and she straightened, turning to look at him. When she did, she gasped. “Oh my gosh! You’re perfect!”

Jon broke into a grin; an almost bashful one. “Yeah?” He gave her a turn and she laughed. He then looked down to what he was wearing before back to her, taking in her own outfit. “You look so beautiful. So, so beautiful,” he then said and Sansa promptly broke into a blush. “And I know you specifically said costumes were optional but everyone just ignored the optional part. Even Edd.”

“As long as they know it was _optional_ ,” Sansa said though secretly, she was ridiculously pleased.

None of them had done anything for Halloween, and yes, Thanksgiving was next week already but there was never a wrong time of the year to throw a costume party, in Sansa’s opinion. And this was a party that Sansa had always wanted to throw. When she was in high school though, or younger, it just hadn’t been possible. Her mom would have been doing all of the work and that wouldn’t have been fair to her and in high school, so many kids thought they were “too cool” to dress up and have a fun time like this.

In culinary school, everyone had been too busy and schedules lining up hadn’t been the easiest and then, her mom got sick and Sansa lost so many friends in the process, having a party with just her siblings – no offense to her siblings – just didn’t seem as fun as it could be.

But now? Now, Sansa was finally able to throw the party she had always dreamt about throwing.

A _Clue_ -themed party complete with appropriate foods, the movie (one of her favorites) to view and the board game, of course, to play in turns since there would be too many guests and not enough player pieces. She also had a backdrop set up against a wall and cardboard cutout props of the various game’s murder weapons so everyone could take pictures.

Sansa had rented her costume for the evening. Keeping with the theme of the 1940s from the board game and the early 1950s from the movie, her dress was like melted silver, hanging down her body to the floor, her hair was long, down and wavy, and her eye makeup was a little dramatic. She _felt_ beautiful and she was relieved Jon shared the same opinion.

Jon was wearing gray dress pants, a white button down shirt and a matching gray vest, buttoned. His hair was down and his beard was trimmed and Sansa loved him for going along with the theme tonight though she meant it. Costumes were entirely optional. She would have loved him if he showed up in jeans and a flannel.

Lady jumped down from the bed and when Jon saw the peacock feather costume she was wearing, he grinned and crouching down in front of her, he gave the dog some ear scratches, too.

“Can I show you the food?” Sansa offered.

“Yes,” Jon eagerly hopped back up to his feet and she laughed. “I’m not going to lie. I’m more excited about the food than anything.”

Sansa laughed again. “I don’t want to say that I’ve been planning and working on the menu for hours-”

“But you have,” Jon finished for her as Sansa led the way from her bedroom and he followed. “You know I would have loved to help you,” he then told her.

“I know,” Sansa said, giving him a smile to show him that she truly did. “But this honestly has been a party I’ve been wanting to throw for _years_ and I wanted to be able to do it on my own. You’re just supposed to be here, eating all of the food, telling me it’s amazing and looking pretty.”

“That I can do,” he grinned and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest.

Sansa’s eyes were closed before Jon’s lips even touched hers and the instant they did, she sank against him, her own arms lifting to loop around his shoulders. She moaned softly and parted her lips when she felt Jon’s lips lightly tracing them and they both moaned into one another’s mouths as he deepened it. Sansa could feel her head tilt – or was that the floor beneath her? – and she tightened her arms around him.

“Do we have time?” Jon murmured against her lips.

Sansa smiled against his. “We definitely do not.”

“I can be quick,” he offered and Sansa had to pull her head back as she began to laugh.

“What a terrible thing to say,” she said and he smiled before she leaned in for one more – quick – kiss. “Can you wait a few hours until the party is done and everyone is gone and we can take our _time_? I was hoping you would want to spend the night tonight.”

“Of course I can wait. I _am_ able to control myself, Sansa,” Jon told her with the tiniest smirk.

“What a terrible thing to say,” Sansa said again with a laugh in her tone and Jon’s smirk grew into a smile.

“I also brought that,” he said, pointing towards her front door, and Sansa smiled when she saw the overnight bag he had left on the floor next to it. “I didn’t want to presume but I was also hoping you wouldn’t mind.”

Sansa had been heading towards the kitchen but stopped at his words. She paused for just a moment before turning around to face him one again. “Would you and Ghost like to move in with me?” The question was asked quickly so it might be interpreted as Sansa asking it out of the blue – spur of the moment – but that was far from the truth.

She had been thinking of such a question – and possible answers – since Halloween and they had had the entire discussion about bathrooms and marriage. She loved Jon so much and she couldn’t imagine _not_ loving him or being in love with him and if they were serious about marriage being in their future, shouldn’t that mean they be serious about _everything_?

Jon was standing there, looking at her, and she didn’t expect an answer straight away. This was a big question and it required plenty of time to think before an equally big answer. She wanted him to truly think about it. He had roommates, a massive bedroom and maybe he liked having those things and maybe he thought that talking about marriage with his girlfriend of two months was different than physically moving in with her.

Two months _was_ quite fast. No other way around that. Were they moving too quickly? Possibly yes but this speed was one they both seemed to agree on and at no point in their relationship so far did Sansa stop and think to herself that they were moving _too_ fast.

She could go into a whole other level and think that one moment, a person was here and the next, they were fainting and being diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. A person never knew how long they had in this world and yes, some things shouldn’t be rushed but other things… if they felt right in every single way, why should they wait?

“Yes.” Jon’s answer was given quickly; like his lips parted and it just fell from his mouth, but Sansa looked at him and he looked at her and she knew that it wasn’t given without thought or given spontaneously.

They looked at one another and simultaneously, they began to smile. Jon was the one to close the space between them and Sansa felt as if she was going to cry. Her chest felt too big for her body and it was growing, trying to expand right past her ribcage and into all of the space that surrounded her. She felt so happy and yet, it hadn’t been so long since she felt happiness like this.

Happiness like this – happiness that filled and encompassed her – she was getting used to it because this was something she felt so often when with Jon.

With his hands on her cheeks, Jon kissed her again and again and Sansa started smiling and couldn’t stop so their teeth began to knock together which only made them smile wider and start to laugh. It was the most ridiculous – _perfect_ – kiss.

…

Everyone came and the girls – like Sansa – had rented dresses from costume shops and the boys were all wearing clothes like Jon. Edd wore his dress pants and white shirt with suspenders and a fedora. Bran wore a fedora as well and Grenn was sporting a bow tie.

Robb and Jeyne left the far North to be in Winterfell for Thanksgiving through the New Year to spend plenty of time with both the Stark and Westerling families and Sansa was so happy when they came to her flat, dressed for the _Clue_ party, Sansa admitted to jumping all over them, as excited to see them as Lady would be.

Edd, Grenn, Ygritte, Robb, Jeyne, Bran, Arya and a friend she met at school, Gendry, were all in attendance, all just as happy and excited as Sansa seemed to be for this party to actually be happening.

“Walk us through the food!” Ygritte exclaimed once everyone had arrived and they were all done complimenting one another’s costumes.

“Better hurry, Sansa,” Grenn grinned. “Trust me. Don’t get in the way of Ygritte when she’s hungry. Oof!” He bent over when Ygritte promptly elbowed him right in the chest. “See?” He groaned as the others laughed at him and his pain.

“Okay,” Sansa laughed as well, feeling excited but a little nervous, too. She had spent so much time, researching and putting the menu together to create the perfect _Clue_ -related food. “So, from the left to the right, we start with cold cuts with mostarda, a spicy mustard. The cold cuts are mortadella, prosciutto, and pate. There are also olives and dried apricots, figs and dates. There is then party fowl crostini and these are bacon, blue cheese, chicken and fig jam. And this,” she pointed to a large circle loaf of bread and she lifted the lid she had cut into it so everyone could see. “Brie cheese baked in bread. There are roasted plums topped with mascarpone cheese and drizzled with balsamic reduction and honey. And our two drinks are Green Fizz – cucumber and mint infused sparkling water – and Scarlett Spiced Cider – rum, sparkling hard apple cider and cinnamon sticks.”

She took a deep breath once finished explaining everything and was met with cheers and applause. Jon planted a hard kiss on her lips and Arya squeezed her arms around her waist in the tightest hug.

Everyone chattered excitedly as they took plates and helped themselves to everything before them and Sansa watched them taking the food and drink, no one skipping over anything. She felt relieved that it had all turned out exactly how she imagined it.

“Are we going to watch the movie first?” Bran asked as he helped himself to a massive chunk of the bread and the melted brie cheese.

“I think so,” Sansa nodded.

“Yes! Movie first!” Robb exclaimed.

“No, I want to play the board game first,” Arya spoke up, dropping the smallest bit of mostarda onto her plate and then trying it with the tip of her finger. Deciding she liked it, she helped herself to a much larger dollop. “It will get us in the mood for the movie!”

As her siblings began arguing with one another, Jeyne had gone to the simple white backdrop and picked up the cardboard wrench and lead pipe, laughing as she did.

“Robb!” She called to her husband. “Come let me bludgeon you!”

“Coming, dear!” He called back and then looked to his brother and sister. “Movie first.”

“What are you doing?” Sansa asked Jon as she finally took a plate for herself, now that everyone else had served themselves. Jon still stood at the table, looking over the food and drinks, clearly in thought. “Is something not good?” She immediately assumed.

Jon was a foodie like her. He _loved_ food like her and he knew what truly good food was. He said that he trusted her palate but Sansa trusted his palate, too.

“I’m just trying to figure out what would be best to drip all over your body tonight after everyone leaves,” Jon mused, still looking thoughtful at the spread of food spread out before him. “Maybe some of the brie cheese?” He suggested, giving her a smile.

“Don’t even think about it,” she said, trying to be stern but Jon just smiled because he saw right through her. He stepped closer to her and his lips brushed across the top of her shoulder. Sansa laughed and turned, putting a hand on his chest. “This dress is a rental. Don’t even _look_ at it and think of getting melted cheese anywhere near it.”

Jon just smiled and leaned down, kissing her shoulder again. “When I move in, are we going to be eating like this every night?” He then asked.

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Absolutely not. Do you know how long this took me? And with how busy we both are with Thanksgiving coming, you’ll be lucky if we even have time to _think_ about eating and food.”

His mouth moved to her ear. “I could eat you right about now.”

“Jon!” She gasped quietly, her face on fire, and she quickly looked to their friends and her siblings as if everyone present had just overheard his comment. She then looked back to him. “Are you purposely being a degenerate tonight?”

“A degenerate?” He almost laughed at that.

“A sexual deviant?” Sansa offered instead.

This time, Jon did laugh as he took a plate for himself and began generously helping himself to all of the food. “My girlfriend just asked me tonight to move in with her. Forgive me for being a little horny.”

“Who’s horny?” Edd asked, having overheard, as he returned to the table for more crostini.

“Please, Edd. Ask that just a little louder,” Jon requested of his friend in a dry tone, frowning.

Edd just gave him a grin. He looked to Sansa. “I think I might add this Scarlett Spiced Cider to the pub’s menu. If you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” Sansa smiled at him. “It’s an excellent excuse to come to your pub more. We really have Pinterest to thank for all of this though.”

Edd grinned again and Jon smiled to himself. He had noticed that ever since Sansa had come over for the first time to meet them all and had brought apple pie, Edd hadn’t hidden how much he liked Jon’s girlfriend. Not like _that_ but rather like a person who was happy to know another person.

“Sansa!” Ygritte called out, now at the white backdrop, too. “We’re going to take a picture all together before we start the movie.”

“ _Game_ first,” Arya corrected her.

Sansa eagerly put her plate down and taking both Jon’s and Edd’s hands, she pulled them both to the white backdrop against the wall where everyone else was already gathered. Robb had set up his camera – his professional camera – on a stack of books, testing the height to make sure the shot would get everyone. Sansa looked to her friends and her family and her smile was wide and true.

She had friends and she had family who would dress up and come to a party she had always wanted to throw. They would all eat and laugh and have fun and in addition to her smile, she almost wanted to start crying as well. It was all so wonderful – and the night had just begun.

“Are you alright?” Bran asked from her side as Grenn stood behind him, holding the cardboard knife to Bran’s throat, and he looked to Sansa’s face and seeing something there.

Sansa looked to him and gave him a smile. From her other side, Jon’s arm slid around her waist.

“It’s just been a very long time,” Sansa told Bran in a quiet voice and over everyone’s chatter and laughter, Bran heard her. And understood.

Slowly, he smiled. “I know what you mean.”

“Alright!” Robb called over the noise as he saw the camera blinking, ready to flash. Lady barked with excitement. “Everybody ready? One! Two! Three!”

“CLUE!”

…

Sansa was not going to giggle. She was _not_ going to giggle. When Jon stepped out of the bathroom, the light turning off but the vent still blowing, he, in his pajamas, crossed the room and stood at the foot of the bed, looking at her; obviously waiting.

“What?” Sansa asked, also in her pajamas, already tucked into the bed and waiting for him to join her.

“You don’t have to make it so obvious that I’m ridiculous and that it amuses you,” he said.

“Why would I ever be amused?”

Jon narrowed his eyes at her and she just smiled sweetly at him as he finally got into the bed. The flat was quiet, clean and locked for the night. Lady was already snoring at the foot of the bed. Sansa wondered where Ghost would sleep once he lived here, too. Hopefully, he and Lady wouldn’t fight one another for space in bed with her and Jon.

Once he got himself comfortable, Sansa put herself close to him, resting her head on his chest as Jon lifted his arm to put around her shoulders.

“I’m so happy you want to live with me, here,” she said.

Jon put his lips to the top of her head. “I don’t want to live anywhere else.” She smiled and closed her eyes, nestling a little closer to him. “Do you want to live with me?”

“And your bathroom habits? I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want it all.” Sansa shrieked when Jon suddenly gripped her, beginning to tickle her. “No, Jon! No!” She shouted in the midst of laughing, her body twisting and thrashing, trying to get away from his tickling, torturous fingers. “Stop! Please! Jon, you’re killing me!” He just grinned and didn’t stop as she laughed harder while trying to breathe and push him away.

Lady lifted her head and looked at the couple, perturbed, before she hopped down from the bed and went out of the bedroom to sleep on the sofa for a bit.

As suddenly as he started tickling her, Jon stopped and he lowered his head, letting her catch her breath for a moment. And when Sansa looked up at him over her, she smiled and putting her hands to his cheeks, she gently pulled his head down so their lips could meet.

She felt Jon’s body slowly lay down on top of hers and her hands slid from his cheeks back into his hair as they kissed again and again, melting into one another. They moved slowly – almost lazily – and Sansa expected them to tear at one another’s clothes the instant everyone had left and they were alone but instead, they cleaned up and changed into their pajamas, getting themselves ready for bed, and now, in bed, they were kissing and breathing one another in as if they had all of the time in the world to do just this.

And more.

Sansa liked to imagine that that was exactly what they had. All of the time in the world.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!!


	16. Gobble Til You Wobble

…

“Are you sure I look alright?” Lyanna asked as they walked up the driveway to the Stark house front door.

Jon did not lose his patience even if this was far from the first time his mom had asked that very question. Instead, he just gave her a smile. “You look great, mom,” he assured her. “And Sansa told me that her family keeps Thanksgiving casual. Sansa wouldn’t say that if she didn’t mean it.”

“I know,” Lyanna nodded. “I just want to make as good a first impression as I can.”

Jon just gave her a smile at that. He would never tell her but he kind of liked that his mom was nervous to meet the Stark family. He and Sansa were moving in together. They were already talking about the “m” word. Chances were very high that the Sark and Snow families would be in one another’s lives for many years now. It was important – very important – that they all liked one another; or at least got along with one another.

He rang the doorbell and immediately heard dogs – plural – from barking inside. He knew Lady was over and Robb and Jeyne had their own dog – a rescued direwolf that had been injured and abandoned by his pack – and Sansa had told Jon that he had to bring Ghost over as well for the day. Ghost, now between Jon and Lyanna – heard the barking and cocked his head at the sound of it. He could recognize Lady’s bark but the other bark was much deeper and he wasn’t sure what it was.

A moment later, the door flew up and Sansa stood there, looking adorable in an apron with a turkey on it.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” She exclaimed.

She stepped onto the porch and hugged Lyanna first, who smiled and hugged her tightly in return. Sansa then turned to Jon and gave him a quick kiss.

“Come in, come in,” she then took a step back and held open the door for them. “Robb!” She called for her brother while attempting to hold back the massive grey direwolf with one leg.

“Hey, Jon,” Robb appeared and stooped down, putting both of his arms around the animal’s neck.

“Hi, Robb,” Jon greeted back with a smile.

He admitted that he couldn’t take his eyes off of the direwolf. He had never seen one up close like this before. In the zoo, sure. In films, yes. But not _this_ close where he could reach a hand out and actually touch it. It was much bigger than Ghost or Lady. _Much_ bigger. He was grey with browns mixed in his fur and his eyes were yellow. Jon imagined being in the far north, in the wilderness in the middle of the night, and coming face to face with those eyes staring out at him.

“Remember what we talked about?” Robb was talking to the direwolf as if he was a docile little lamb. “Ghost is our guest today. Jon and Ms. Snow are our guests today and we’re going to be a good host, aren’t we?”

With Robb’s arms still around his neck, the direwolf stretched his head out and began to sniff at Ghost. Jon handed his mom the two dishes he was holding and knelt down next to his dog, not sure how Ghost was going to react to this strange beast in his space. He put a hand on Ghost’s neck.

“It’s alright. This is Sansa’s brother’s direwolf and he isn’t going to hurt you,” Jon promised him.

Ghost turned his head to look at Jon as if to say _We’ll see about that_ before looking back to the direwolf. He allowed the animal to sniff at him and didn’t growl in response.

“He’s so beautiful,” Lyanna spoke, having been like Jon and just staring at the animal in slight wonderment.

“Thanks,” Robb smiled proudly. “Jeyne, my wife, and I named him Grey Wind because when he runs, he’s just a streak of grey across the white snow. He hurt his leg when he was a pup and his pack left him behind.”

“That’s terrible,” Lyanna frowned.

Robb just shrugged. “It’s what most animal packs do if one of their own gets injured. Lucky for me though.”

“How’s it going?” Ned Stark asked the question quietly, stepping into the entrance hallway, not wanting to disturb the animal introductions.

“Dad,” Sansa smiled. “This is Jon’s mom, Lyanna Snow. Lyanna, this is my dad, Ned Stark.”

Sansa had told Jon that her dad was just as nervous to meet his mom as she was to meet her dad. Catelyn Stark was the more sociable of the two and when they went out to parties or shared evenings with other couples, Catelyn always took the lead and Ned was more than happy to let her do so. People had loved Catelyn’s warmth and friendliness and after a bit, Ned got himself more comfortable and sociable as well. Catelyn was his strength when it came to situations like this.

But Sansa must have spoken to her dad like Jon had spoken to his mother because Ned now stepped forward towards Lyanna with a warm smile.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Lyanna,” he said. “And I’m so glad you could join us today.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, too, Ned, and thank you _so much_ for inviting me today,” Lyanna smiled. “I admit I can be a bit useless in the kitchen so Jon would have had to handle the entire meal for us today.”

When it seemed like Ghost and Grey Wind weren’t going to murder each other, Robb and Jon both let go of their respective animals – slowly – and then stood up. This time, Ghost sniffed at Grey Wind and the direwolf stayed still, permitting it.

“I’ve brought the stuffing,” Jon said, taking the two containers his mom was holding back into his hands so he could show Sansa. “I’ve made two massive things of it so I hope that it’s enough for everyone.”

“Thank you,” Sansa smiled at that and he smiled, too. “I need your help in the kitchen, if you wouldn’t mind, and dad? Could you introduce Lyanna to everyone? Lyanna, there’s deviled eggs, spinach dip bites and a cheeseball with Ritz crackers to snack on before dinner.”

“Thank you, Sansa,” Lyanna smiled warmly at her.

“Would you like anything to drink, Lyanna?” Ned asked as he led her into the living room and Jon followed Sansa into the kitchen.

The island counter was covered in various foods and the things needed to prepare them. Sansa had told him that she had always helped her mom with Thanksgiving Day preparations and everyone else had strict instructions to “Stay the Hell out of the kitchen” and without her mom, Sansa would have liked someone to help her but she also wanted to do it on her own.

“Not you though,” Sansa said after she told him that. “I’ll need your help more than anyone’s.”

Jon had smiled a little at that and lifted his hand, his thumb brushing across her cheek. “The only way I want to spend my Thanksgiving is helping you in the kitchen,” she said and he absolutely meant that.

Sansa had asked him if he could do one major thing for her.

“Could you make the stuffing? My mom… I can’t make her stuffing. That was… that was _her_ recipe and I… I haven’t been able to-”

“Of course I’ll make the stuffing,” Jon cut in. “I love to make stuffing.”

In the kitchen now, Jon set both containers down and began to peel back the tinfoil. Sansa stood at his side, watching, smiling as more and more was revealed. When she saw the stuffing he had made, she turned her head to him and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“You’re seriously the most amazing man in the world, Jon Snow,” she told him softly; as if it was a secret only for the two of them to know.

“Because I made stuffing?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Yes,” she answered him with a smile and he smiled, too. He leaned in and kissed her forehead and Sansa knew that there were many things to do still but right now, she closed her eyes and kept her chin on Jon’s shoulder and just stood there with him.

She had images in her head then of other Thanksgivings past this one; of the Thanksgivings to come. Still with Jon and with their combined families and maybe… maybe a few kids running around in the kitchen while Jon and Sansa worked side-by-side to put the meal together.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Jon dipped his lips down so his could touch hers. “I love you, too. And I’m going to keep loving you even after you explain to me what those are doing here.” He pointed at several baking sheet trays of still uncooked potatoes cut into fries.

Sansa laughed and she stepped away from him to go to the other side of the island counter. “So, you know about the Stark ugly pumpkin tradition for Halloween and now, this is the Stark Thanksgiving tradition.”

“Desecrating it by having French fries?” He asked with the smallest smirk.

She laughed again. “When we were all younger – Robb, myself and Arya – we were ridiculously picky eaters. _Ridiculously_ picky. And the three of us, all we ever wanted to eat, was French fries. No matter what we were having, French fries, French fries, French fries.”

“And Thanksgiving was no different?” Jon smiled a bit wider.

“Of course it wasn’t,” she shook her head. “And eventually, yes, we all grew to love mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes but by then… well, it just became the tradition.”

Jon was quiet, thinking that over for a moment, looking at the trays of raw French fries. He then looked to her. “I like it,” he decided. “You Starks,” he then shook his head and Sansa let out a laugh.

“Well, they are fancied up a bit,” Sansa said. Jon watched as she went to the kitchen table and there was a large bowl, covered with cling wrap, positioned directly in the sun. “Parmesan Garlic fries. You’ll love them.”

“I know I will,” he gave a nod.

She returned with the bowl and Jon watched as she removed the cling wrap and then gently took the ball of dough that had been resting – and rising – inside. She had already sprinkled flour down on the counter and she now began rolling the dough in the flour, kneading it, stretching it a little as she went; flattening it.

“What are you doing?” He asked curiously as she held up a bit towards the window, stretching the dough a little as she did so.

“It’s the windowpane test,” she smiled. “I hold up a piece of the dough to the light and gently spread it apart. If it’s properly kneaded, the dough should stretch without tearing or breaking. See? A thin membrane that I can see the light through?” She turned it towards him just enough for him to see with the light still hitting it.

Jon looked and nodded, smiling a little himself. “I like that,” he said and it made her just keep smiling.

“We may have French fries for Thanksgiving dinner but we have homemade rolls.”

Jon was in the middle of preparing the green bean casserole as Sansa was checking on the turkey, squirting the juices back over the golden brown skin, when the door between the kitchen and the dining room swung open and Grandpa Hoster entered.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Jon,” he clapped a hand on his shoulder as he passed on the way to the refrigerator.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Hoster,” Jon smiled. “How’s my mom?” He meant to check on her – though he knew his mom could handle herself – but the time had gotten away from him. Preparing an entire Thanksgiving meal for a house full of people could do that.

“She and Ned are currently complaining about the woes of being salespeople,” Hoster answered and both Sansa and Jon smiled at that. “Did you tell him about the jar?”

“Jar?” Jon asked, looking to Sansa as she came to stand next to him at the counter, ready to put the trays of potatoes into the oven now.

“Robb’s home and Robb has decided to take charge of Rickon,” she began to explain. “If Rickon says something mean or awful, he has to put a dollar in a jar.”

“And what will that do?” Jon had to ask.

The few times he had seen and spoken with Rickon, the kid just seemed… _angry_. And Jon got that. He did. He knew how furious he would be at everyone and everything if his mom died. And he wouldn't be a teenage boy going through it.

“It will piss him off even more. At first. But then, he’ll realize that he won’t want to keep losing his money,” Hoster explained. “It’s not a long-term plan but at least it’s a plan.”

“And if he says anything about your stuffing, he’s going to pay two dollars,” Sansa said.

She smiled at him and Jon smiled, too, and he then leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

…

Besides French fries with their turkey, cranberries, stuffing, green bean casserole and rolls, the Starks also watched _Fargo_ every Thanksgiving after dinner – for whatever reason. Jon wasn’t going to ask. He was just going to go with it.

Sure enough, Rickon did say something about the stuffing. “This tastes like shit.”

And Robb, sitting next to him, didn’t say a word. He simply pulled the jar out from under his chair and set it down on the table in front of Rickon’s plate.

“That’s two dollars, Rickon,” Sansa told her brother.

Rickon stared at Sansa and then at Robb and both just stared at him. No one at the table spoke, wondering what he would say or do. They honestly expected him to stand up, throw his chair back and storm upstairs. But after a showdown with his two oldest siblings, Rickon did put two dollars into the jar and Robb then returned it to the floor beneath his chair.

Everyone except Jon and Sansa – since they cooked – helped clean up after eating and put away leftovers, making sure some were divided out for both Jon and Lyanna to take with them and then, the big moment they were all waiting for though they had been patient and hadn’t pestered.

Sansa revealed the pies.

“We have three pumpkin pies, one pear pie, one cranberry apple pie, and one mint chocolate chip cream pie,” she said and she smiled at Lyanna when she said that one. “Jon told me how much you love mint and I’ve never made this one before, so I just hope you love it.”

“I _love_ it,” Lyanna said with tears in her eyes and she came around the counter to hug Sansa long and tight.

Ned brewed a fresh pot of coffee and with plates of pie and whipped cream, the family settled in for the movie. Sansa and Jon sat together in the oversized armchair together, Sansa’s legs over Jon’s lap and Jon ate a piece of the pear pie – he loved Sansa’s pear pie – and Sansa had a slice of mint chocolate chip.

They all were quiet for the first half hour or so – even Rickon ate his pie and watched the movie without fuss. But then Ned and Lyanna began talking – quietly – about work and Robb was asking Bran about hair advice – “I’m not touching your hair. Mom always loved it too much,” was Bran’s response – and Grey Wind was getting too close to Arya’s plate of pie to take a bite for himself and Hoster and Jeyne began talking when she was going to make him a great grandpa. “You have to stop asking that,” Jeyne laughed. “Too much pressure.”

Jon didn’t mean to be a creep but he turned his head to look at Sansa and he couldn’t look away. She – and Rickon – seemed to be the only ones still actually watching _Fargo_ – and the light from the screen flickered across her face. She had finished her slice of pie and still held the empty plate in one hand and had the fork still between her lips, her teeth holding it in place.

Jon watched her and the way her long red hair was pulled over her shoulder. The way she looked so beautiful in her jeans and festive orange sweater. The way her lips would move ever so slightly as she recited dialogue to herself – silently.

“You know,” Sansa leaned closer to him, not realizing he was staring. “When people talk about the great love stories in movies, no one ever talks about Norm and Marge from this one. Why not? They’re honestly so sweet and loving and they have such a good marriage. Everyone should want to be like Norm and Marge.”

Jon smiled. “I guess people don’t want something that’s so normal and… quiet. They want a sweeping soundtrack and kisses in the rain.”

“Oh, sure, I get that,” Sansa nodded and her eyes went back to the television. “But there’s something so wonderful about the quiet normalcy.”

“So, don’t say cheesy romance lines like, of all of the empty storefronts in all the world, she had to move in next to mine?”

Sansa broke into a smile – and blush – and she looked back at him. “Okay. You can say things like that to me _sometimes_. As long as you promise that you won’t go overboard and be Humphrey all of the time.”

“Deal,” Jon gave her a grin and a quick kiss. “I need more pie.”

Sansa smiled and lifted her legs from his lap so he could get up. Jon stood up and dropped a kiss on Sansa’s head before heading back into the kitchen. One of the pumpkin pies was still covered and Jon took it upon himself to peel the tinfoil back, smiling as he did. Sansa had decorated each pie crust differently and this one had GOBBLE TIL YOU WOBBLE on top of it. Jon helped himself to a too-big slice.

The door swung open again and Ned stepped in with his and Lyanna’s empty coffee cups. “Hi, Jon,” he smiled on his way to the coffee machine.

“Hi, Ned,” Jon smiled back as he grabbed the can of whipped cream.

“I’m enjoying getting to know your mom,” he then said.

“I’m glad,” Jon said. “She was nervous to meet you,” he then revealed and he knew his mom probably wouldn’t want him to say that but it didn’t matter anymore. The Snows and Starks were getting along fine.

“Me, too,” Ned smiled and poured two fresh cups before turning to Jon. “I wanted to speak with you, Jon. Just the two of us.”

Jon was about to take the first bite of his pie but he stop immediately. He slowly lowered the fork. “Of course.” He was not going to be nervous – immediately. There was no harm in Ned wanting to talk with him.

“My wife… before she…” Ned swallowed. “We didn’t tell any of the kids we did this but we went to a jewelry store and bought rings. She wanted all five of them to have something special if they… after she died and Robb eloped with Jeyne, when they got back, I gave him the ring Catelyn wanted him to have. Now,” Ned rushed on. “I’m not telling you that you have to use the ring Catelyn picked. You’re your own man and a man should be able to pick out his own ring. But I just wanted you to know… there is a ring. If you want it.”

Jon honestly had no idea what to say. It almost felt as if his brain had frozen over and he couldn’t even find it in himself to move any part of his body even a fraction of an inch.

He would think Sansa’s dad would be telling Jon that it had only been three months and don’t even _think_ about marrying his daughter after just three months but instead, Ned Stark stood there, talking about rings and giving Jon one so he could give it to Sansa.

Did everyone see how crazy they were for each other? How in love? They all must have seen it if Sansa’s dad was saying things like this to him.

Jon swallowed. “I really appreciate that, Ned. I… I know Sansa would love to have a ring, knowing that her mom picked it out. I…” he struggled to take a deep breath and Ned stood, waiting patiently. “I’ve actually already bought a ring.”

…

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50545185583/in/dateposted/)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!


	17. Fact or Opinion

…

Jon leaned down and gave her swift kiss, his rhythm never being lost.

“Sansa,” he breathed against her lips, puffs of hot air escaping onto her face and it rushed over her body, from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. She loved the way he said her name. No one had ever said her name like Jon said it and the _things_ it did to her when she heard it. Just from him saying her name; from her hearing her name.  
  
She was surprised when he rolled them over, putting himself on his back and her on top. Sansa straddled him, her hands on his chest, and she began to move, now being the one to look down at him as he watched her. His hands ran up and down her ribcage, cupping her breasts, thumbs swiping across her hard nipples, and she arched her back, her head falling back as she rocked her body up and down his length. His amazing hands, his butcher hands, seemed to touch and caress her everywhere he could reach and Sansa bit down on her bottom lip as she moaned.  
  
He sat up suddenly, surprising her once again. “Don’t,” he said and at first, she didn’t know what he was talking about. He lifted a hand to her face and with his thumb, he freed her lip from her teeth. “If you’re going to moan, I want to hear you.”  
  
She blushed and shook her head and she realized that she was still riding him, having not even realized that she was still going. One of his hands held her hip as the other pressed flat on her back and her arms wound around his shoulders, pressing herself close to him. Their mouths found one another, fusing together, and she began to move faster, rocking her hips against his, squeezing her inner muscles, and this time, he was the one to moan. She couldn’t help but let out a giggle at that. It gave her a surge of adrenaline and she began moving even faster; frantically.

“Can you cum in me?” She panted.

After their first time, Sansa had gotten herself on birth control. She knew Jon wasn’t sleeping with anyone else and she certainly wasn’t sleeping with anyone else and she liked the idea of feeling Jon truly inside of her. (She also knew that no birth control was completely, one-hundred percent, effective and if something _did_ happen, she didn’t at all hate the idea that that something would happen with Jon.)  
  


“I can,” Jon answered with the slightest smirk.

Sansa knew what he was doing and she narrowed her eyes at him, which only made him grin. “ _Will_ you cum in me?” She asked.

Jon moved his head forward, pressing hot, wet kisses along her jaw. “I will,” he promised. “When my buddies and I were younger, we thought a girl couldn’t get pregnant if she was on top.”

“What?” Sansa laughed at that and he kept grinning.

“Gravity. What goes up must come down,” he joked – though Sansa knew he wasn’t joking at all – and she started to laugh; even as she still rode him.

  
His thumb found her clit and it made her toss her head back, crying out, squeezing around him like a velvet vice. She came with a loud cry of his name – no longer thinking of, or worried about, her neighbors in the flats on either side of them – and his thumb never stopped rubbing gentle circles on her clit, guiding her through her body-shaking orgasm.

He rolled them over again, putting her on her back, and she struggled to breathe as he resumed thrusting inside of her, chasing after his own completion. Her fingers tunneled through his hair and he dropped his head down, kissing her hard, breathing her in. When he came, he grunted and stilled before she felt him empty himself inside of her.  
  
Her lips softly kissed his and her hands rubbed circles on his back and he collapsed heavily on top of her, both of them panting. Sansa closed her eyes and tried to breathe.

“Do you want anything to drink?” Jon asked as he began to slowly pull his body back from hers.

Sansa yawned as she shook her head. She now felt thoroughly worn out and tired. Jon kissed her face a few more times before moving away and standing up from the bed. She felt no shame in looking at her boyfriend’s naked body – that ass and his abs and the muscles in his arms – as he went to the dresser, opening the bottom drawer for a pair of clean sweatpants. He tugged them on and then looked back to her, she still lying down, splayed out and completely naked.

“Do you want a tee-shirt?” He asked.

“Please,” She nodded at that.

Jon opened another drawer and pulled out his green University of Myr tee-shirt. They had both learned straight away that Sansa loved wearing Jon’s tee-shirts whether to bed or just puttering around the flat and Jon certainly loved her wearing them.

He came back to the bed. “Arms,” he said and Sansa smiled, sitting up and lifting her arms over her head. She then laughed as Jon tugged the tee-shirt down over her arms and head.

The tee-shirt fell down her body and Jon bent down, giving her a kiss. He then turned and left the bedroom and Sansa pulled herself from the bed to go to the bathroom. When she came out again, she heard Jon in the kitchen and Lady had come back to the bed, now laying on the foot of it.

Jon and Ghost had officially moved in the Friday after Thanksgiving and the first night, the dogs seemed to agree immediately over sleeping arrangements. Lady would spend most of the night on the bed with Sansa and Jon – unless Sansa and Jon were doing what they had just done – and Ghost preferred to sleep out in the living room. He had a big dog bed that had been placed under the living room windows and that was where he always was.

Sansa scratched Lady behind her ears for a good minute or two and gave her a kiss on the head before she slipped beneath the covers and situated herself, getting comfortable. Her laptop was on the bottom shelf on the nightstand and she grabbed it now, opening it and resting it on her thighs. Jon came back into the bedroom with a glass of water and when their eyes met, they shared a smile.

“Do you mind?” He asked, picking the remote from the dresser across from the bed.

Sansa kept smiling and she shook her head. When he moved in, he had a small television in his bedroom and he asked if she would hate it if he moved it into _their_ bedroom.

“I draw the line at more than three episodes of _Trailer Park Boys_ a night though,” Sansa had said as Jon had worked to set it up and he had gotten a good laugh from that.

Now, Jon got into the bed next to Sansa and turned on the television, it immediately going to their Netflix account screen. He perused the options for a moment and Sansa loved that he even pretended that he didn’t know what he was going to watch. After a moment, he gave up the act and chose an episode of that stupid show and Sansa was already getting pretty good at blocking it out.

Sansa was on her Pinterest page, ignoring the stupidity of the show her boyfriend loved to watch, and looking at pictures of clothes and interior design and she also liked to look at recipes for foods and desserts. It was her favorite way to unwind at the end of a day – besides having sex with Jon. But she had already grown to love the after part just as much; she and Jon in bed, together, both doing their own thing and just being there in one another’s company.

She had been worried when she asked him to move in; that it was too fast or that they would move in and realize that they just completely clashed and didn’t fit at all.

But it wasn’t anything like that. The Friday after Thanksgiving, her siblings and their friends helped carry Jon’s things from his flat down the street to Sansa’s and it took them the day to find a space for everything and Sansa considered it a raving success that a week later, they hadn’t truly fought or killed one another yet. There had been _some_ disagreements, yes. Sansa still couldn’t believe she loved a man who put the toilet paper on the holder _under_ rather than _over_ but that was something she could live with.

She supposed.

“Can I talk with you about something?” Jon asked, somewhat suddenly.

Sansa turned her head away from the laptop to look at him. “Of course,” she said and Jon muted the television. “Is everything alright?” She then asked him.

“Yeah. I’ve just been thinking about something. It’s about Rickon.” He took a sip from his water glass.

“Rickon?” Of everything Jon could have possibly said, her youngest brother was certainly not on the list.

“I know he’s helping you in the pie shop, especially with the holidays coming, and he _should_ be helping there, but… do you think he’d might want to help out in my shop, too?”

Sansa opened her mouth – as if to respond right away – but she actually didn’t know how to respond. She continued looking at him and Jon rushed to say more.

“I was just thinking that it might be something else good for him. He seemed a little interested in it and it might help. Hacking away at something.”

She smiled at that. She closed her laptop and returned it to the bottom of the nightstand before turning towards him. “That’s really sweet that you would offer that, Jon.” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal but it was. It. Was. “Are you sure that is something you would want to do?” She asked. “You don’t _have_ to do it, Jon. Rickon… well, you already know how he can be. There’s no reason you need to do this.”

Jon shrugged again and took another sip of water. “He’s your brother and I want to try to help.”

Sansa wasn’t sure why but at his words, she felt a rush of emotion rise in her chest. Her eyes grew wet and he turned, putting his glass down on the nightstand – without a coaster but Sansa couldn’t find it in herself right then to remind him – before turning back towards her.

He put his hands on her cheeks and Sansa shifted closer to him, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders.

“I love you so, so much,” she said, pulling on his shoulders; pulling him closer.

Jon smiled and gladly went to her. “I know you do. I mean, it’s pretty obvious,” he said just before his lips met hers and she began to laugh against his.

…

For the upcoming Christmas holiday, _Flour Power_ had a completely new menu. There was a bourbon chocolate pecan pie, a cranberry and pear pie, a gingerbread cream pie, a brown butter spiced apple pie, and a candy cane cream pie. She normally offered six different pies but these were rather time-consuming to make and Sansa thought five would be efficient.

Any time she changed the shop’s menu, she invited her grandpa in for a taste test and to go over the business plan, seeing as how he was as much a partner in this shop as she was – there wouldn’t be a shop without Grandpa Hoster – and he had as much a say as she did.

“I love them all,” Hoster said as he tried a bit of each as Sansa baked.

“Truly?”

She had to be certain. This was their first Christmas open. Thanksgiving had been a wild success. A wild, crazy and stressful success and she wanted Christmas to be as well. She wanted Christmas to be _better_. She wanted _Flour Power_ to be so far into the black, they were guaranteed some breathing room because she had a feeling that the next few months _after_ the holidays would be slow for pie.

Hoster just smiled and kissed her on the head before taking another taste-test spoon of the pecan pie.

She needed Rickon’s help now more than ever. He could work the register and help customers with their orders and Sansa got a leap on tomorrow’s baking. And with the kitchen open behind the counter, she’d be able to keep an eye on him in case he was even _thinking_ of being rude to one of the customers.

She took note of the two teenage girls immediately. They entered her shop and smiled the instant they saw Rickon standing behind the counter. Sansa couldn’t see her brother’s face since he was facing away from her and Sansa had to wonder what his reaction to these two were because they clearly knew him.

“Hi, Rickon,” one of them said.

“Hey,” Rickon said, sounding extremely bored but that was his usual tone so Sansa wasn’t drawing any conclusions from him using it now.

“Brian mentioned that you were working here now,” the other girl said; both of them smiling at him.

“Yeah. It’s my sister’s pie shop.”

Sansa busied herself with working on her fillings for the cranberry and pear pies and the brown butter spiced apple and she was not going to make it so obvious that she was eavesdropping on these two girls who had clearly come here to flirt with her brother. Did Rickon know they were flirting with him? Did he even care?

“That’s so sweet,” the first girl said in reply to that.

“Do you recommend anything?” The second asked.

Sansa _casually_ glanced over to her brother and the girls to see what he was going to say.

Rickon shrugged. “My sister’s a great baker. Anything you get will be good.”

Sansa hadn’t been expecting her brother to actually compliment her and she felt ridiculous for smiling to herself like she did but she didn’t care. Rickon had just complimented her.

“We should get one to split,” one of the girls said. “I don’t think I should get a whole one. The winter dance is in a couple of weeks and I want to be able to fit into my dress.”

“Definitely,” the other agreed. She then looked to Rickon. “Are you going to the winter dance with anyone, Rickon?” She asked in what she probably thought was a casual voice but Sansa remembered being a teenage girl and she was certain she had had the same “casual” voice when talking to a boy she liked.

“Hell, no,” Rickon answered firmly and Sansa could _hear_ his frown. “What slice do you want?” The two girls chose a slice of the gingerbread cream and Rickon handed it over with two forks and took their three dollars. “Thanks for coming to _Flour Power_ ,” he then recited just as Sansa wanted him to.

The girls waved and took their pie, leaving the shop, and once it was just the two of them, Sansa couldn’t help herself but go to him.

“Who were they?” She asked, now using her “casual” voice.

Rickon sighed as if he had been asked this question a million times and was sick of it. “Girls from my school. I think they’re obsessed with me.” Sansa couldn’t help but laugh at that and Rickon turned his head to her. “I’m serious. Wherever I am…” he waved his hand towards the door. “There they are. It’s like a bad magic trick. And they’re _always_ together. Like the twins from _The Shining_.”

Sansa gave him a pat on the shoulder and returned to the kitchen. Rickon turned around, resting back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What did you think about them? Creepy, right?”

She was not excited that her brother was actually talking to her and asking for her opinion. She was _not_ excited. She was as cool as a cucumber.

She resumed filling in the waiting pies. “I only saw them for a moment but they _did_ seem to really like you.”

“They want to fix me.”

“What?” She turned her head to him.

“They want to fix me and save me.”

“Are you broken?” She asked the question and she might have had her own answer for it but she wanted to know Rickon’s answer because she honestly had no idea how he saw himself.

She half expected Rickon to shrug or scoff and tell her to fuck off. But instead, he was quiet.

“I haven’t been right since mom died,” he then said and that was certainly the truth. “And I know I have all of you and dad and Grandpa but I just really miss her and I wish she was here.”

“Me, too,” Sansa said before she couldn’t. She didn’t want to speak and stop Rickon from speaking but she had to let her brother know that he wasn’t alone. Not at all.

“And sometimes, I hate being around you,” Rickon continued. “You’re just so much like her and I can’t take it sometimes.” Sansa had absolutely no idea what to say to that. What could possibly be said to that? “I know it’s not your fault. It’s just… I don’t want to hate being around you, Sansa.”

He whispered that last part.

Sansa knew he would hate it. Absolutely hate it. But she didn’t care.

She went to him and hugged him. She expected him to immediately shove her away but he didn’t. He didn’t hug her back but he didn’t shove her away. She hugged him long and tight and finally, eventually, she felt Rickon’s hands on her back.

Knowing that she had hugged him long enough, Sansa forced herself to break away from him. She returned to the kitchen. She had Rickon helping her in the shop so she could bake and not wake up so early every morning. She had to take advantage of that.

“I also hate being around Jon sometimes, too. He reminds me too much of dad and when the two of you are together…”

Her brother’s words weren’t exactly happy words and yet…

“Really?” Sansa felt herself smiling and she couldn’t stop.

She and Jon reminded Rickon of mom and dad? For her whole life, she had watched their mom and dad and that was honestly all she had wanted for herself. Her mom had known that and that was why she told Sansa about loving _and_ liking a man. It was how Catelyn felt towards Ned. They fell in love with one another within an instant and were lucky enough to find out that they liked one another as well. And their love story had lasted until Catelyn’s death. Actually, even with Catelyn, Ned still loved her madly; so much, he could hardly function sometimes.

Sansa worried that she and Jon were moving too quickly and yet, she thought of how quickly her parents had moved and how _right_ this speed felt with Jon. She had always wanted a love story like her mom and dad’s and she and Jon must have something like that if _Rickon_ was noticing it.

“He’s going to ask you to marry him,” Rickon then added.

Something about that made Sansa laugh. “Are you stating an opinion or is that a fact?”

The bell above the door rang as another customer stepped into the shop. Rickon turned to face forward without answering Sansa so he could greet the customer – “Welcome to _Flour Power_ ” he recited just as Sansa wanted him to – but for once, Sansa wasn’t thinking about the customer.

She kept staring at her brother. “Rickon?” She asked, but for once, Rickon was actually focusing on the customer.

Rickon had to be stating an opinion. He looked at her and Jon and thought of mom and dad so obviously, he would think that Jon would be asking her to marry him. It wasn’t a solid fact. It wasn’t even a wobbly fact. How on earth would Rickon know if it was?

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! I wanted to update this chapter tonight to distract me. (Please don't mention politics in the comments). I hope you like this chapter! I am eager for Jon's POV in the next one for certain reasons 😉


	18. Making Some MORE Plans

…

Ros looked up when the door opened and couldn’t help but be completely surprised when she saw who her newest customer was.

“Hi, Jon,” she gave him a smile, albeit a confused one. “Do you know where you are?”

Jon grinned at that. Ros was kneeling on the floor in front of a raised platform that was placed in front of a three-sided mirror. A young girl – a teenager – was wearing a dress and Ros was currently sticking pins at the bottom of it. Jon bet that this girl was getting ready for one of those big formal winter dances the high schools – both private and public – had around this time of year.

“Yeah. I was hoping you had one of those scarves that Sansa’s always in here, looking at.”

Ros smiled at that; as if she had just been waiting for Jon to come into her shop for this very thing. She looked to the girl. “I will be right back, Jen,” she said as she rose to her feet. As soon as she did, the girl began turning one way and then the other, admiring herself in the mirror, as if she had been holding as still as possible and now had the freedom to look.

Jon followed Ros to the front corner of the store where she had some shelves of various scarves and hats.

“Which color do you think?” He asked. “Is there one she’s been looking at more than any other?”

“She hasn’t made it _that_ easy for you,” Ros laughed. “Which color do you think?”

Jon looked at the various options. It amazed him that Ros made everything in this store – by hand. He couldn’t even imagine how long that took her and he understood why she charged so much for her things. She had every damn right in the world to charge whatever she wanted. Jon would bet his butcher shop on that that dress the girl was wearing had been made specifically for her and her body.

“Either the blue, for her eyes, or the green because of her hair,” Jon decided.

“Blue would look amazing with her hair, too,” Ros offered.

He nodded and pondered that as he picked up one of the blue silk and cashmere scarves. He immediately imagined it wrapped around Sansa’s neck and how it would look at her. Well, that was easy to imagine. It would look amazing on her. He couldn’t imagine few things _not_ looking amazing on Sansa.

He then picked up the green scarf and did the same thing. Ros was right. Blue might be the one to look best with her blue eyes and her red hair. In the back of his mind, he knew that Sansa would love any color scarf he got her because not only was this something she really wanted but also because that was who Sansa was. She was the person who if a person gave her something as simple as a smiley-face sticker, Sansa would thank them profusely and wear it proudly all day.

So yes, Jon knew that he could pick the absolutely _wrong_ color for her and Sansa would still love it but he wanted her to love it because he had picked the most perfect scarf possible for her.

He took a deep breath because this was _serious_.

“The blue,” he said, handing it to Ros while putting the green scarf back on the shelf. He attempted to fold it as nicely as Ros had had it.

“Excellent choice,” Ros smiled and turned, heading to her register.

Jon followed after her, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He already knew how much the scarf was so when Ros gave him the total, he didn’t even blink as he fed the machine his credit card. Ros took out a piece of tissue paper from underneath the counter and gently wrapped the scarf into it, enclosing it with a small “M” sticker for _Marmalade_. She then took out a brown paper bag – also with “M” on either side – and slipped the scarf inside. Jon signed the screen and the machine printed off a receipt. She slipped it into the bag and gave it to Jon with a big smile.

“She’s going to love it,” she assured him.

“I hope so,” Jon said, letting his nerves show for a brief moment. “I mean, I know she’ll love it. She has wanted this scarf for how long? It’s just our first Christmas together and the first is always a big one.”

“Well, you have done a fantastic job,” Ros said, still assuring.

“Thanks, Ros,” Jon gave her a smile and headed from the shop, his eyes glancing once more to the girl, still standing on the platform, admiring herself in her dress, and he had to wonder if Ros made wedding dresses.

…

It would be too risky to hide the scarf somewhere in their apartment – especially since Sansa would know the “M” on the bag would stand for Ros’s shop, _Marmalade_ , so Jon went to the butcher shop, hiding it in the bottom drawer of the desk in the back office.

Already, he felt an excitement to give it to her. He could imagine her face when she saw that he had gotten it for her; especially since he knew that Sansa had no plans to buy one for herself.

He wasn’t entirely sure how Christmas was going to go. Well, he _knew_. Ned Stark had already invited him and his mom over and his mom had been more than happy to accept the invitation, but Jon didn’t know how his and Sansa’s Christmas would go. She had mentioned a tree for their place and Jon wasn’t sure if she meant getting an artificial one or going to the tree lot at the end of their block. Whichever one she met, Jon would go along with it. He then wanted to give her this present when it was just the two of them. Maybe they could exchange presents – just the two of them with their dogs in their apartment – on Christmas Eve.

He would talk with Sansa about it because again, whatever she wanted to do, Jon would be on board.

It was Rickon’s first day helping at the butcher shop and so far, Grenn and Jon had showed him how to wrap the meats people chose in the white butcher paper, which he did as Jon or Grenn rang up the orders. Jon wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but if he didn’t know any better, he would almost think that Rickon was being… agreeable. Anything Grenn or Jon asked him to do, Rickon had hopped right to it and done it.

Jon wouldn’t say that Rickon actually liked working in the shop and yet… maybe he did. Maybe he was a teenage boy who thought being surrounded by raw meat like a horror movie was something pretty cool.

In the late afternoon, when customers slowed down, Grenn and Jon began working on making sausage. It wasn’t something they did often. It was a long process but for Christmas and Memorial Day, they had made it a _Meat Counter_ traditional special. And Rickon helping out now, maybe they would be able to do it faster.

They set up an assembly line. Grenn was cutting up the meat – pork shoulder and lamb shoulder, leaving the fat on for flavor. Jon then took the meat, pork first, and fed it through the grinder, followed by the lamb. Jon and Grenn then used a mix of spices – salt, pepper, paprika, a little brown sugar to add a hint of sweetness. Rickon helped with mixing all of the spices and the meat together, Jon and Grenn showing him how to do it with his hands.

Jon then fed it through the grinder again – slowly – and after showing him how, Grenn stepped aside so Rickon could hold onto the casing as the meat filled it.

“Shit,” the boy swore as the casing began to split.

“You’re alright,” Jon assured him. “Here, just hold it a little more firmly and we want it full but not so full, it’s bursting. Yeah?”

Rickon nodded and with a look of determination, he got a new casing to hold to the grinder’s spout.

“I’m proud of you,” Grenn commended Rickon, clapping a hard hand on his back. “When Jon and I made sausage for the first time, we were both twenty and we had _plenty_ of jokes to make about it.”

Rickon broke into a grin at that and at the sight, Jon smiled, too.

They worked for another half hour before the shop door opened and all three lifted their heads to see who it was. Robb entered, smiling, when he saw them.

“Hey,” Robb said to them all. “I’m here to get Rickon and to also pick up the Christmas goose my dad ordered.”

“I’ll get that,” Grenn volunteered, heading to the sink first to wash his hands before going into the step-in freezer.

Jon untied the apron from around Rickon’s waist so he could take it off. “Don’t forget to wash your hands,” he told the boy before Rickon could go get his stuff from the back office.

Robb cocked his head to the side and Jon nodded, stopping off to wash his own hands before coming around the cases to join Robb on the floor, both standing closer to the front door.

“How’d he do?” Robb asked in a low voice.

“Really good,” Jon answered honestly. “He actually listened to us and he seemed to _want_ to listen.”

Robb exhaled – as if relieved; as if that was exactly what he both wanted Jon to say and needed to hear. “Thank you, Jon. Thank you.”

Jon just shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.”

He was eighteen when he got a job in that hotel kitchen instead of going to college and he found his own path for himself. He figured that that was what Rickon needed, too. After his mom’s death and being at his age, he just needed to figure things out. If he could get over just being angry all of the time, he might realize that he had plenty of people around him who were willing to help him figure it out.

And it honestly meant the world to him that the Stark family trusted him enough and brought him into the fold to try and help Rickon the best way he could think of.

…

Both Lady and Ghost were jumping with excitement when Jon opened the front door and Jon made sure to give them equal amounts of attention and affection. He heard Sansa in the kitchen and he went there to give her a greeting of her own.

“Hi,” Sansa smiled brightly as she stood at the counter, cutting up an onion.

Within a second, he saw this scene playing out over and over for the rest of their lives – Sansa home already when Jon got home himself. She in the kitchen or the living room or anywhere in their home and he would go to her and kiss her and they would both just be so happy to see one another.

This could – _would_ – be their life.

Jon smiled as soon as his eyes landed upon her and he went to her, lifting a hand to her face and giving her a kiss. “Hi. And one pound of boar meat per your request,” he said, holding up the brown paper wrapped package of meat in his hand.

She beamed. “You’re the best. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing. I know you’re good for it.” He gave her another kiss and Sansa laughed. “What are you making? Am I able to ask that?”

“Do you remember what I said when you cooked me that small boar filet for the first time?”

Jon didn’t need time to think. “You’re making a boar pie?” He suddenly felt extremely excited for dinner.

“I’m _attempting_ it. I’ve obviously never made a boar meat pie before so if I kill you with this, please know beforehand that I love you and I’m so sorry I murdered you.”

He grinned at that and gave her one more kiss. “I need to take a quick shower. Get this raw meat stench off of me and honestly, after dinner, I think I’m just ready for bed.”

“You and me, both,” she agreed. “Don’t get me wrong. With Christmas coming, the pie shop’s books are _loving_ this time of year but I, on the other hand, feel like I could fall asleep right in my kitchen.”

“And yet, you still come home and make dinner? We could just order out, Sansa,” he reminded her. “Or pie. I’m fine with eating whatever leftover pie there is.”

“I’m making us boar pie for dinner and you will choke it down and love it, Jon Snow.”

“Yes, Sansa,” he obediently agreed and her laughter followed him from the kitchen as he headed towards their bedroom to begin stripping off his clothes.

In the shower, Jon scrubbed himself thoroughly, washing the day off of him. The butcher shop was just insane lately. He would never complain about that. As an independent shop owner, he would never complain about an influx of customers but he was like Sansa. His account books loved it but his body – not so much. He really was ready for bed and if Sansa wasn’t going through so much trouble, making them dinner, he would be more than ready to crawl under the blankets right about now.

Grenn and him were already looking over their profits and planned on closing at noon on Christmas Eve and not opening _The Meat Counter_ again until after the new year. They both just needed some time to unwind and relax and he wasn’t sure what Sansa was planning with her own shop but he hoped they would have a few days off together.

When he stepped from the shower and wrapped the towel around his waist, he opened the bathroom door to let out some of the steam the vent hadn’t gotten and rubbed another towel over his hair so it wasn’t completely sopping.

In their bedroom, he smiled when he saw Sansa now lying on their bed, flat on her back, blinking up at the ceiling. She had already changed into her pajamas – black yoga pants and a plain grey long-sleeved tee-shirt.

“The pie is in the oven, cooking, and if it’s absolutely awful, I have two pieces of pecan pie we can eat.”

“Both options sound amazing.”

He went to the bed and leaned over, putting his face over hers. Without saying anything, Sansa lifted her hands to his cheeks and she brought him down for a kiss.

“You’re dripping all over me,” Sansa then informed him.

“Sorry,” he smiled a little. “I could point out that you’re the one who pulled me closer.”

“Well, _you’re_ the one who came out only wearing a towel,” Sansa frowned.

Jon grinned at that and with a kiss to her forehead, he pulled back and went to stop torturing her by tugging on a pair of sweatpants. Sansa laughed when he tossed the towel to her and it landed over her face. She pulled it off and sat up. She watched him for a moment as he chose a tee-shirt and tugged it on.

“Would you have time to go to Myr after Christmas?” The question flew from his mouth.

He had thoughts of taking her to his second home in Essos and proposing to her there but he had already scraped that idea. Sansa had never been to Myr before and it wouldn’t mean anything to her. It would be just a place he take her on vacation. It wasn’t special. To him, he loved Myr but Sansa didn’t know if she would love it there or not. He wasn’t going to propose to her in a place like that.

“You want to take me to Myr?” Sansa began to smile; as if the idea was already pleasing to her.

“I would love to show you around and share it with you.” Sansa’s smile kept growing. “I’m not sure what your shop’s schedule is going to be-”

“Grandpa Hoster and I decided we’ll be closed the 24th until the 3rd.”

“Perfect,” Jon was grinning now, too, to match the size of her smile. “I can ask my mom just to make sure she’s not heading over there, too, so we can have the cottage to ourselves. Would you want to come to Myr?”

“Jon, yes!” She exclaimed and tossing the towel aside, she practically bounced to her feet and then went to him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and kissing him all over his face. “I would love for you to show me Myr. And it will be so hot there and we’ll be able to go swimming!”

“We will,” he readily promised her and laughed as she began kissing him again.

Of course, he was already imagining her in a bikini, swimming in the Sea of Myrth, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. Yet.

“What are we doing this year for Christmas Eve? I know Christmas Day is with your family and my mom but I wasn’t sure if we were going to do anything in particular for Christmas Eve,” Jon said as they broke apart and he took the towel, going to return it to the bathroom and to dry his hair a bit more.

Sansa followed after him and leaned in the doorway. “Ygritte and I were talking and Edd’s pub has some Christmas Eve thing?”

“Kind of. He shows _Home Alone_ and drinks are half off. He does it because no one’s around on Christmas Eve and he figures he doesn’t lose that much money.”

“Well, would you be opposed if we do that?”

Jon couldn’t help but look at her, a little surprised. “You want to hang out in a pub and drink on Christmas Eve?” For some reason, he didn’t expect that to be something that Sansa would be interested in.

“We wouldn’t get blackout drunk and we wouldn’t stay there all night. But if Christmas Day is with our families, maybe Christmas Eve should be with our friends?”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jon gave a nod. “Maybe a couple of drinks and then come back here for some time, just the two of us? I kind of wanted that night to be ours.”

“ _Of_ course we can do that, Jon. We don’t even have to go out on Christmas Eve if you don’t want.”

“No, I don’t mind going out for a couple of drinks. You’re right. We should see our friends for a little bit.” 

Jon wondered if he should propose to her then; Christmas Even when it was just the two of them. Hopefully, Sansa wouldn’t get _too_ tipsy at Edd’s pub so when he proposed to her, she would remember it. Or should he wait for another time to ask her to marry him? That was the thing though. He didn’t want to wait. Yes, this whole thing had been moving full speed ahead but now that he knew, without a doubt, that he was proposing, he wanted to propose to her as soon as he could so they could be engaged and then get married.

“Why don’t we stay for one drink, in the movie, Kevin says that when he grows up and gets married, he’s living alone and then we head back here for us time?”

Jon grinned at that. He went to her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her body tight against his. “You are so good at reading my mind.”

Sansa burst into the happiest smile at that and there was a moment when Jon looked at her and he thought that maybe he could propose right this second.

Both in their pajamas, standing in their bathroom… was this the moment?

He could do it. He could drop down onto one knee right now and ask her. He had the ring in his underwear drawer (he couldn’t imagine Sansa going in there) and he could ask her and hopefully she would say ‘yes’ so he could slip that ring on her finger.

But at the same time…

Jon couldn’t ask Sansa to marry him while they stood in their pajamas in their bathroom. He knew that he could do much better than that.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who still wants this one? THANK YOU so, so much for reading and for taking the time to comment!


	19. All I Want

…

Sansa drove through the cemetery, following the smooth black roads paved throughout, and she stopped at the appropriate row. She parked at the side – just in case someone else drove past and needed the room – and she took the flowers from the passenger seat. She got out, opening the back door so Lady could hop down, and then began heading down the row, her eyes going over the – now – familiar headstones before she reached her own mom’s.

Her dad had already been here – he came about every other day to visit – and the fresh poinsettia arrangement he had ordered for the holiday decorated the top of the headstone. There was a small vase, stabbed into the ground, in front of the stone and though the ground was cold and there was an inch or so of snow, Sansa knelt anyway and slipped her flower arrangement into it.

CATELYN TULLY-STARK

BELOVED WIFE, MOTHER, SISTER AND DAUGHTER

The gravestone would be shared by Catelyn and Ned, when it was his time. There was a quote along the top of it, over both of their names: _All I really want our love to do is to bring out the best in me and in you, too._ The quote was from a Joni Mitchell song; one that Catelyn had sung on their first date because they had wound up at a bar that had featured karaoke that particular night and this was the song Catelyn had sung. And it was with Catelyn singing this song that Ned knew that he was already in love and that this was the woman he was going to marry.

Sansa looked towards Lady, who was sniffing the frozen ground and the other headstones around them, before she looked back to her mom. She visited every week; she didn’t know how often her other siblings visited the cemetery. That wasn’t her business and the way they all mourned and remembered their mom in their own ways was their own private business.

“I miss you,” Sansa whispered to her mom as she did every other week when she came and her eyes still began rapidly filling with tears as they always did. “I wish you were here. Obviously, I wish you were here. I could really use your help with baking at the shop and Grandpa Hoster has actually rolled up his sleeves to try and help me fill all of the orders I’m getting flooded with but – and I _love_ Grandpa – but it’s clear you didn’t get your baking skills from him.” Sansa smiled a little. “Jon booked our tickets to Myr. We’re flying out on the 26th and I’m so excited. I’ve already begun researching all of the restaurants I might want to visit while there. Arya thinks he’s going to propose to me while we’re there.”

Lady had finished sniffing around and came to sit next to Sansa. Sansa smiled and ran a gloved-hand down Lady’s back as she continued looking at her mom’s headstone.

“And I hope he does propose. I know it hasn’t been that long at all but I love him so much and I just think of you and dad and how you both _knew_. I wish you were here so I could talk to you about it. I know you would know exactly how I’m feeling and I know you would really like him.”

Sansa sighed and was quiet for a moment, looking at her mom’s name engraved in the stone, more tears flooding into her eyes as she did. Catelyn Stark _should_ have been here. Her mom should have been here to bake pies with Sansa and meet Jon and talk with Sansa about him. When they got engaged, Catelyn should have been here to help Sansa with dress shopping and sitting arrangements and at their reception, she should have been here to share a dance with her new son-in-law. And when she and Jon had kids…

The tears were falling fast and freely now. Sansa always planned ahead when coming to the cemetery and she pulled a travel pack of tissue from her coat pocket. She wiped her cheeks and blew her nose and staring at her mom’s name, she put an arm around Lady, who stayed at her side.

Sansa loved her dad so much. So, so much. But it had always been different with her mom. Catelyn was her mom, yes, but she had also been one of Sansa’s best friends. Growing up, going through those awful puberty years, Sansa sometimes felt like her mom was the only person to truly understand her and the only one ever on Sansa’s side. When Catelyn died, Sansa truly felt like a part of her had disappeared, never to come back.

She couldn’t imagine that he would but she wondered if Jon would mind naming their daughter - if they had a daughter - Catelyn.

Sansa and Lady stayed at the cemetery stayed until her legs were asleep and her knees were frozen. She pushed herself to her feet and then stood for another moment for her legs to wake up with pins and needles. And then, once she could feel everything again, Sansa leaned down and kissed the top of the stone.

“I love you,” she whispered so no one but her mom could hear.

She and Lady then went back to their car, the snow crunching beneath her boots and from the grey, low-hanging clouds in the sky that afternoon, more snow was going to be falling very shortly.

Sansa blew the heat at full blast and when “Donna” by The Lumineers came over the radio, she paused only because she loved the Lumineers but this was not the best song to be playing at this exact moment and she turned it off before she could start to cry again. It was best if she just left the radio off altogether.

Every flat above the shops had an assigned parking spot behind the buildings and Sansa pulled into hers. She would go next door to say “hi” to Jon and Grenn but she didn’t want to bother them. She had sold out early that day and she wasn’t going to distract Jon and Grenn from their own business day. She guided Lady to the bakery’s back door and unlocking and disarming the alarming it, she and Lady headed inside. The shop was clean and dark, ready for tomorrow, and setting the alarm again, she and Lady then went upstairs.

Ghost was dancing at the front door, excited for them to be back though they had only been gone for an hour or so. Sansa smiled and gave the dog plenty of attention and affection before unwrapping her outer layers and taking off her boots.

Her chest felt heavy and her stomach felt tight and she turned to go into the bedroom. The bed was made – Sansa liked to make the bed every morning no matter what – but right now, she just wanted to crawl beneath the goose-down comforter and curl into the flannel sheets and miss her mom a bit longer. Christmas was always such an impossible time. She loved being able to be with her other family and they still had kept all of the same traditions they had always done but Catelyn not being there was always glaringly obvious.

She stopped herself suddenly from crawling back into bed. No. If she did that, she wouldn’t get up again for the rest of the day and night and that wasn’t what she wanted to do. She missed her mom so much it _ached_ but she wasn’t going to drown and wallow in it.

The idea popped into her mind – sudden and unexpected – but once it was there, Sansa didn’t even think over it. She simply went to go tug on everything once again. She went to the kitchen and got two big Milk Bone treats and gave one to Ghost and the other to Lady.

“I’ll be back soon,” she promised them both and then was gone again.

She didn’t bother with the car. It was only a few blocks away – easily within walking distance – and it was only when she was just outside did she realize that she definitely should have called first.

Lyanna Snow lived in a duplex and according to the two buttons next to the mailboxes, she was on the second floor. Sansa took a deep breath and pressed the appropriate button. She hoped this wouldn’t be too weird or she wasn’t dropping in on her just as Lyanna was about to do something that Sansa’s sudden appearance would ruin.

_“Yes?”_ Lyanna’s voice came through the speaker box.

Sansa wet her dry lips. “Hi, Lyanna. It’s Sansa.”

_“Sansa!”_ The woman exclaimed and a second later, the door was buzzed unlocked.

Sansa smiled and pushed open the front door. There was a festive wreath hanging on the front of it and inside, there was a staircase in front of her – wood steps with a heavy wood banister with a decorative post at the bottom. There was one door down there – with a gold 1 on the front of it – and Sansa headed up the stairs. Halfway up, the door to number 2 opened and Lyanna was positively beaming at the sight of her.

“Sansa!” She was already holding out her arms and Sansa told herself to not run but she certainly hurried. And when she was in Lyanna’s arms, the woman hugging her tightly and rubbing hands on her back, and Sansa closed her eyes, squeezing the woman tight.

“I’m sorry to just drop by like this,” Sansa said once they parted.

“There’s no need to ever apologize for that. If I was doing something truly important or entertaining someone, I just wouldn’t have answered,” Lyanna said, keeping a hand on Sansa’s back as she gently guided her into the apartment.

Sansa let out a laugh at Lyanna’s words and Lyanna gave her a quick wink.

“I was just about to make some tea. Would you like a cup?”

“That sounds amazing,” Sansa said and Lyanna gave her a smile before heading into the kitchen. “I just…” she took a deep breath. She hadn’t told Lyanna about her mom. She wondered if Jon had told her. “I was visiting my mom today. I visit her once a week. She’s buried in Holy Oak Cemetery.”

Lyanna had pulled two mugs from the cabinet and had set them on the counter and had been reaching for the box of tea bags but at Sansa’s words, she stopped herself. She opened her mouth to say something and Sansa hoped it wasn’t “I’m sorry”. Sansa had heard that so many times since Catelyn’s death and she honestly could not handle that right now. That was the last thing she wanted someone to say to her.

And it was as if Lyanna knew that because her mouth then closed.

“I hope this wasn’t too strange that I just showed up here today. I just… I needed a mom,” she sighed heavily.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Lyanna came around the counter and engulfed Sansa in the tightest hug and Sansa gasped for breath, expecting herself to break down into hysterical tears, but instead, she hugged Lyanna, closed her eyes and breathed. Lyanna kissed her on the head and then pulled back, keeping her hands on Sansa’s shoulders and keeping her in front of her. “You can come by _any_ time you feel that. I mean it. And if I’m out of town, you call me. Okay?”

Sansa sniffled, nodded and was amazed she was actually able to smile. “Okay,” she promised.

Lyanna squeezed her shoulders and then went to finish getting their teas ready. Sansa took a deep breath and wiped at her cheeks – still dry – before looking to the rest of the flat. Lyanna had a small tree set up in the living room in front of the window and Sansa went to take a closer look. It was a very tidy looking tree. All white lights, an angel on top, and various glass ball ornaments in every color. But then, mixed in, there were handmade ornaments that Jon had clearly made throughout the years of his younger school days.

She lifted her hand to one of his tiny handprint – Baby’s First Christmas. For some reason, _that_ was making her eyes well up.

(She now wanted to imagine their daughter, Catelyn, having the exact same ornament with her tiny hand.)

“Here we are!” Lyanna announced, coming into the living room with a tray. There was the teapot, two cups, and a plate. “Now, it’s not pie but I hope gingerbread cookies will be alright.”

“That sounds so good. Thank you for everything, Lyanna,” Sansa said as she came to join her on the couch.

“Stop it. Now, what can we watch that will completely get your mind off of things?” Lyanna turned on the television that was hanging above the fireplace and Sansa took her cup of tea and one gingerbread cookie and leaned back into the comfortable couch.

Her phone buzzed and as Lyanna flipped through channels, Sansa pulled it from her back jeans pocket and saw that it was a text from Jon. She took a moment to finish chewing her cookie and then leaned forward to put her cup on the coffee table before texting back.

_J: Hey. Grenn’s closing up for us tonight so I can leave a little early. Are you still visiting your mom?_

Sansa smiled a little at that.

_S: I’m actually with YOUR mom. We’re drinking tea, eating cookies and watching television._

The three “…” appeared for more than a minute so she knew that he was typing and then deleting before typing again.

_J: Is everything alright?_ He finally got out.

Sansa felt her heart twist. Gods, she loved this man. She really did. Even when she didn’t want to make a big deal and tell him what had happened, Jon could still feel it. Through text messages, of all things, he was able to read her words and just know that that was the question to be asked.

_S: It is. I just needed a mom right now._

_J: I love you._

_S: I love you, too. And your baby handprint is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen._

_J: Christ. There aren’t any baby albums out yet, are there?_

_S: I think the one of naked toddler you in the bathtub that your mom has on the fireplace mantel more than makes up for that, don’t you?_

Again, the three “…” appeared and Sansa was already pursing her lips together to keep from laughing, She could just imagine what his response to that was going to be. She picked up her cup to take a sip of tea as she waited, knowing that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

_J: Son of a bitch._

Sansa almost choked on her tea.

…

The tree lot was at the end of their block and was actually somewhat crowded that night with others there to get their Christmas tree. White lights were strung throughout the setup to give it almost a magical ambience. There was also a hot coco stand that Jon already led her straight to as soon as they arrived.

They now sipped their drinks from their Styrofoam cups and held hands with their free ones as they moved throughout the trees, deciding which one would be perfect for them and their flat for their first Christmas.

“I kind of like the Scotch Pine,” Jon noted as they stopped at a particular one.

Sansa nodded in the middle of sipping some hot coco. “It is _very_ Christmas,” she agreed. She slipped her hand from his so she could touch one of the branches to see if any of the needles came off.

“I mean, I know they’re not the prettiest trees. They’re no Douglas Firs.” Jon sipped his hot coco and Sansa began walking around the tree to see if there were any visible holes or crookedness.

Those things didn’t really bother her though. It was like buying ugly pumpkins for Halloween. Holey, crooked trees were trees, too, and deserved to be decorated to the nines for the holiday.

“Do you want to find one a little bit less perfect?” Jon suddenly asked her as she came back around to stand with him and she looked at him, surprised. He smiled a little. “We can. I don’t mind. I actually think I might really like that if we got ourselves a _Charlie Brown_ tree.”

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do,” he gave a nod.

It was all too much. Missing her mom so much today and Lyanna taking such care in comforting her and now, Jon telling her that they can get a less-than-perfect Christmas tree, it was all just too much for her emotions and she could feel it happening and she could do nothing to stop it.

“Hey, hey,” Jon worriedly stepped to her when the first tears began to stream down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. We can get the most perfect tree in the lot if you want.”

Sansa laughed and cried at that and shook her head as she stepped to him and put her arm around his neck – her other hand still holding onto her cup and didn’t want to risk spilling it down his back. Jon’s arm went around her waist and he held her as she did her best to get herself under control again. Shopping with Jon for their first Christmas tree was not the ideal time or place for an emotional breakdown.

“I’m sorry,” she was finally able to say after a minute. She pulled her head back and Jon was staring at her with such concern, he was about to get her started all over again. “These stupid holidays,” she then frowned and Jon’s lips twitched as if he was about to smile but instead, he leaned in and kissed her softly.

“Want to go look at the scrawny rejected trees?” He asked. His arm left her waist and took her hand again.

“Don’t call them scrawny rejected trees, Jon,” Sansa did her best to frown. “They are trees that were not chopped down and murdered in vain.” That got a smile out of him and Sansa squeezed his hand, smiling, too.

…

The tree they picked out was not getting on a Christmas postcard anytime soon but Sansa thought it was perfect. The man working at the lot hadn’t really believed them when Jon and Sansa told him that this was the tree they wanted but after realizing they meant it, he seemed quite happy to get it off his hands.

Sansa carried the top and Jon carried the trunk and they headed down the sidewalk, back towards their flat. This was honestly the best she had felt all day. Each streetlamp post had a wreath hanging from it and lights crisscrossed across their street. The lightest snow was falling and for the first time today, Sansa felt happy. This was a hard time of the year for anyone – everyone – but moments like this, when it felt _so_ much like Christmas, it was hard to be sad.

“Hey, Sansa,” Jon said and she looked over her shoulder to look to him. He was smiling a little and it made her smile, too; just because he was smiling at her.

“What?” She finally asked with the slightest laugh in her voice.

Slowly, he set the trunk of the tree down, leaning it against a mailbox.

They were in front of Sweet Beets and Sansa wondered if he wanted to grab something to eat for dinner here. Their first date was here and it had become Sansa’s favorite restaurant in town for that reason alone. (It also helped that the food here was ridiculously, _ridiculously_ good.) The tree should be safe out here if they were inside for a little bit. Sansa couldn’t imagine anyone stealing this tree.

Jon was staring at her and she had no idea what he was doing.

“Are you alright?” She asked. “You’re acting…” she thought of what the right word might be.

But then…

“Jon,” she gasped as Jon suddenly got down on one knee – right there, on the snow covered sidewalk.

He had reached into his pocket and she now saw that he had pulled out a small box, it now in his palm. For the moment, it remained closed but Sansa knew exactly what was inside.

Tears rushed into her eyes – the happiest tears a person had ever cried – and such a change from the tears earlier and the tears she had been crying and close to crying throughout this entire day.

“Are you really doing this?” She had to ask; the question barely able to come out above a whisper though.

Jon smiled and nodded, looking up at her. “I am really doing this – heading home, with our Christmas tree, in front of the place where I fell in love with you.”

She was aware that there were some other people on the sidewalk, passing them in either direction, but she didn’t look at anything other than Jon.

“And it’s fast and maybe I’m crazy for doing this but I know that crazy or not, this is _right_. I love you more than anyone, Sansa, and I know that we’re supposed to be together.”

Sansa nodded quickly. The tears were freezing on her cheeks but that didn’t stop more from coming out. Was it possible for a person to actually throw up her stomach? Because that’s what she felt was going to happen. It was churning so quickly and knotting so tightly, none of it felt natural and how much would the proposal be ruined if she threw up on Jon right now? Surely, she wouldn’t be the first girl to throw up – _ever_ – while being proposed to.

Oh, my God. Because that’s what Jon was doing. He was proposing to her.

“Sansa Stark, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Her answer was immediate – loud and echoing in the air so Jon – and everyone nearby – could hear it.

It was the only answer she could ever give to Jon asking her such a question and suddenly she knew that this was a question she had been imagining him asking her for so long already; maybe since Sweet Beets, like him.

Jon was grinning, almost laughing, and Sansa tugged him to his feet before throwing her arms around him and kissing him so fast, he almost fell against her as he got himself balanced again. His arms went tight around her, his mouth covering hers, and she hadn’t even seen the ring yet but she would. She _would_ because once he put it on her finger, it was never coming off again and she would have the rest of her life to look at it. But right now, she was kissing him and that was the only thing she wanted to do.

From inside the restaurant, and from those in the other shops and on the sidewalk, Sansa could faintly hear cheering and clapping. A few cars were even honking, but again, Sansa hardly noticed. Jon was her main focus as she was his.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU!! Christmas in the next chapter with the Stark/Snow families and then Myr will be the last chapter.


	20. More than Love

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50621624193/in/dateposted/)

…

Not that Jon suspected anything differently but he was still glad to find out that he hadn’t been wrong. Engagement sex was absolutely amazing – especially with Sansa wearing only the engagement ring on her left third finger and the blue scarf around her neck.

“You know, I didn’t buy you that scarf so you would go down on me,” Jon said, already breathing heavily.

“Shut up,” was Sansa’s response to that.

She began to stroke him, up and down, up and down, twisting her hand slowly, gently, working up and down his entire length. He was so hard already and so hot. She leaned in and parting her lips, she placed a light kiss to the tip, making him hiss in a sharp breath. She almost smiled. Her hand continued to stroke what she knew her mouth wouldn’t be able to take and her other hand rested on his thigh. Her lips parted again and this time, she fastened them around the head, tightening their hold almost immediately and she felt his fingers in her hair, holding on.

She sucked, slowly at first, gently for the time being, and she reveled in the way his breathing quickened, the way he moaned her name and it gave her a rush of power she had never experienced with anyone else. Jon trusted her completely. He turned himself completely over to her and she took care of him. One of her favorite things in the world was taking care of him.

She brought her head down on his cock and then lifted it again, swirling her tongue around the head, tasting, licking, savoring the saltiness. She dropped her head again, sucking with just a bit more pressure, and his fingers tightened in her hair. She sucked and stroked and her head bobbed up and down and Jon felt like he was barely breathing. Her cheeks were hallowed in as she sucked him and he was getting bigger, filling her mouth, and she tried to take as much as she could.  
  
“Sansa… Sansa, babe, I’m gonna -,” he grunted, trying his hardest not to thrust his hips and push himself into her mouth.  
  
Sansa didn’t stop. Her hand squeezed the base of his cock and as she sucked, her tongue rubbed the underside of it, feeling him grow even harder and it was twitching around her lips. He was almost there. They both knew it. She dropped her mouth down as far as it could go and Jon pulled on her hair, his hips jerking up. She almost choked but she quickly recovered and loosened her jaw even more, sucking as hard as she can.  
  
“Fuck!” He suddenly exclaimed and his hands pulled on her.  
  
His cock swelled and then, he exploded into her mouth and Sansa gulped each drop down, swallowing while still stroking and sucking him, making sure she got every bit of his release.  
  
His hands left her hair and he felt his body trembling as he fell backwards on the bed, his chest heaving. He was sweaty and he felt like his chest was about to explode. Sansa licked her lips and then stood up, her knees a little sore.

She was smiling as she climbed onto the bed to join him and straddled him, sitting on his thighs. Jon was still panting, looking up at the ceiling, and his hands coming to a rest on her thighs.

“So, I picked the right color scarf?” He asked. Sansa promptly slapped him in the chest for that and then she let out a shriek as Jon suddenly grabbed her and flipped her onto her back. She began laughing and Jon grinned, lowering his face to hers. He kissed her, not caring where her mouth had just been. “Do you really like doing that?” He then felt the need to ask.

Sansa’s brow furrowed a little as she looked up at him. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t do it.”

“I know. I just don’t want you to think that that’s something you _have_ to do.”

Without responding to that at the moment, she lifted a hand to the back of his head and pulled him down for another kiss. “You do that for me all of the time. Do you really like doing that?”

“Are you kidding? I’m addicted to it,” Jon answered honestly and saw Sansa promptly blush at that.

“Well, then, believe that it’s the same for me,” she told him.

Jon leaned down, kissing her again, his hand slipping down the side of her body. His _fiancée’s_ body. That’s what Sansa was. She was his fiancée because he had asked her to marry him and she had said yes. They were going to get married and she would be his wife and he would be her husband.

He pushed himself up a little, laying on his side more at her side, and he smiled as Sansa lifted her hand to look at the engagement ring.

“Do you like it?” He asked though she had already told him – dozens of times – that she absolutely loved it. Still, Jon supposed that he just wanted to make sure that she really did and he had made the right choice.

It wasn’t the biggest diamond in the world – a simple circle-shape rock. It had been the band that had drawn him first to this ring. A twisted band of diamonds that set it apart from other engagement rings that he had seen. On Thanksgiving, when Ned had told him what Catelyn Stark had done for her children before her death, Jon had wondered if he would be able to return the ring he had already bought. He couldn’t imagine Sansa not wanting the ring her mother had chosen for her. Jon loved the ring he had picked out himself but if Catelyn Stark already had engagement rings picked out…

“No,” Ned had cut into Jon’s thoughts as if he was able to read what was racing through Jon’s mind. “You give her the ring you bought. I will give you Catelyn’s ring and if you and Sansa ever have a child, you give that one to them.”

After asking her to marry him and getting their tree back home, Sansa finally looked at the ring in the box. Jon had told her about what her mom had done and Sansa’s eyes had flooded with tears at the revelation.

“I can call your dad. We’ll use your mom’s ring,” Jon offered, making sure that Sansa heard in his tone that he didn’t mind because he didn’t. Yes, it had taken him an afternoon to pick out this ring and it had set him back some in his bank account but he truly didn’t mind because Catelyn Stark had picked out rings – something for her children to have after she was gone – and Jon knew just how much Sansa loved her mom.

Sansa dwelled on that for not even a moment. “No. I want the ring _you_ picked. If we ever have a daughter or son, we can give them their grandmother’s ring,” she said, echoing her dad’s previous words.

At Jon’s question now, Sansa moved her eyes from the engagement ring to his face. She smiled and with the lightness in her eyes, Jon knew that she was about to tease him. “I like it almost as much as I love my scarf.”

Jon grinned at that and she smiled, too, lifting a hand to his cheek, her thumb rubbing over his beard. He leaned down and rested his forehead to hers. Sansa just kept smiling.

“Do you think we’re crazy?” He asked her and didn’t clarify.

He didn’t need to. He knew Sansa knew exactly what he was talking about. Five months and already engaged. He was almost afraid to tell Grenn that he and Sansa were engaged because he and Ygritte had been together for _years_ and Grenn still hadn’t popped the question. He was still planning on it; just hadn’t taken that step. Jon, meanwhile, had leapt right off that edge.

“Of course,” Sansa answered easily, complete with a casual shrug, and Jon laughed this time, Sansa joining in, and he lowered his head back to hers for another kiss. “I wouldn’t want to be crazy with anyone else though.”

Jon felt his chest, warm and full, and he could still see her, just a few months earlier, standing outside of her pie shop, with Lady, as the sign was risen for the first time, smiling so happily and looking like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He looked at her that first time and knew that he wanted to know her. He had no idea that he had just seen the love of his life; his future wife. How could he have known that?

“Me, neither.”

…

To the surprise of no one, his mom screamed and then grabbed both Jon and Sansa to hug them and absolutely crush their bones. And then, her entire family had joined in and Jon wondered if every bone in his body was actually at least cracked by the time everyone was done with hugging and congratulating him.

“Damn it, Sansa,” Robb frowned at his sister after he had given her a tight hug. “You stole our thunder.”

“What do you mean?” Sansa frowned in return.

“Merry Christmas, Ned. Merry Christmas, Hoster,” Jeyne smiled at both men and produced neatly wrapped packages for them both.

Ned and Hoster looked at one another – as if either of them knew what this was and didn’t tell the other – and then, both sat down to open them. Robb came to his wife’s side and slid a hand on her back, both looking at one another, exchanging smiles, before looking back to Ned and Hoster. Hoster had gotten his open and he let out a laugh when he saw what was lying among the tissue paper.

“Jeyne, you told me to stop asking,” Hoster pushed himself to his feet.

“Because you were going to ruin the surprise,” Jeyne beamed.

Hoster then held up the black tee-shirt for everyone to see. #1 GREAT GRANDPA

And then, the celebrations from everyone began again, this time, Robb being the one to be crushed since they all now knew to handle Jeyne delicately.

“Does that mean you’re going to be coming down here to live?” Bran asked.

“We can raise a baby in our cabin. It _does_ have electricity and running water,” Robb reminded his siblings because even though they had been there before, they all seemed to forget that. He looked to Jeyne and then his family. “ _But_ we will be coming back down here a lot more,” he promised, which set off another round of hugs from everyone. Even Rickon got in on it.

Ned was still sitting in his chair, the open box in his lap and his eyes on the #1 GRANDPA tee-shirt. He hadn’t said anything. Jeyne went to him and sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. She didn’t say anything and when he looked at her, they all saw the tears in his eyes.

“An engagement and a baby? Anything else you kids want to spring on me today?” Ned asked.

“I’m flunking math,” Rickon announced and Arya promptly smacked him up the back of his head.

Ned smiled though at that – almost let out a laugh – and he got to his feet, Jeyne getting up as well, and he hugged her for a long time. Robb then stepped forward and Ned gave him the same kind of hug and then, like Lyanna, Ned put both arms around Jon and Sansa, hugging them tightly at the same time.

“Alright,” the man said, giving them a final squeeze before they stepped apart. “I have a goose to check on.”

“Yes! And I have to start my Yorkshire Puddings,” Sansa added.

“You need your glass of milk,” Robb reminded his wife. “You haven’t had one yet today.”

“Jeyne, milk,” Ned said, pointing to the kitchen, allowing for no arguments.

“Do you need any help?” Jon asked Sansa.

“Nope. You made the stuffing. Your duties are done for the day,” Sansa gave him a smile and quick kiss as she went after her dad and sister-in-law into the kitchen.

As everyone broke apart then to continue on with Christmas Day, Jon found himself sitting on the couch with his mother and Hoster sitting in one of the armchairs. Robb went to take Grey Wind on a walk around the neighborhood and Bran, Arya and Rickon began arguing about which movie they should watch first – it seemed to be between _Zodiac_ or _Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade_ – neither of which Jon would consider Christmas movies.

He just smiled to himself. This family was something else.

No. Not this family. _His_ family.

He kept smiling and from next to him, Lyanna was smiling, too; her happiness just embracing them both.

“I know you and Sansa probably haven’t talked about _anything_ yet,” Lyanna began. “But do you think you’ll have cake at the reception or just pie?”

“There damn well better be cake!” Arya exclaimed, having overheard that.

“Of course there will be cake. We can’t expect your sister to bake pies for her own reception,” Hoster answered. “Although… if you get married in the summer, there will _have_ to be strawberry pie.”

“You can have pies and then all sorts of ice cream for on top,” Bran said as he smacked Rickon’s hand away as he was attempting to slip a DVD into the player without letting anyone else know.

“How many kinds of ice cream?” Rickon asked.

Jon perked up at that. “How many kinds of ice cream?” He echoed.

…

Sansa opened the oven door a crack and gasped when she looked inside.

“Let me see, let me see!” Jeyne was bouncing excitedly behind her, trying to look over her shoulder.

Ned suddenly appeared at Sansa’s side. “Let’s see,” he began joining in.

Sansa laughed and opened the oven door completely. Jeyne gasped when they all saw the golden, fluffy Yorkshire puddings and Ned, already wearing the oven mitts, took it upon himself to pull them out. Christmas dinner was sacred in the Stark house. This had always been Catelyn’s holiday; Catelyn’s meal. She had handled it all on her own, keeping everyone out of the kitchen until everything was ready.

When she passed away, and Christmas came, Ned knew what he had to do – for himself, for the kids and for their family. He took out Catelyn’s cookbook and figured it out. The meal was the same every year and this was his second year without Catelyn, making it himself, and he thought he was doing alright with it. It helped that Sansa helped – and Jon had made the stuffing as he had like with Thanksgiving.

Besides the goose and stuffing, they had roasted carrots, mashed potatoes and Yorkshire puddings with homemade gravy. For dessert, Sansa had made an Oreo peppermint pie and Catelyn’s traditional Christmas dark chocolate bourbon pecan pie.

“Thank God,” Sansa breathed with relief as Ned turned, setting the trays down on the counter. “They definitely look better than last year’s.”

“They look _perfect_ ,” Ned assured her with a quick kiss to her head. “They look just as good as your mom’s.”

“That looks just as good as mom’s, too,” Sansa nodded towards the goose.

“Oh goodness, I’m going to eat at least three and tell everyone that the baby is responsible,” Jeyne added, her eyes still gleaming over the Yorkshire puddings.

Ned went to the swinging door and pushed it open. “Dinner’s ready! Help carry out the food! Jon, where’s your knife?”

“I’ll get it,” Jon came into the kitchen and went to the knife bag on the table.

For Christmas, he had bought Sansa the scarf she had been wanting and Sansa had bought Jon the handcrafted carving set he had been eyeing in the kitchen supply store. It was a carving knife and a carving fork and they had been sharpened before purchasing but Jon had made sure to sharpen them so more so he could slice a piece of paper without effort.

“Here, Ned,” Jon brought them back as Ned picked up the heavy platter with the golden-cooked goose on it.

He set the tools down on the platter and everyone came in, picking up one thing and another before all leaving again, until it was just Jon and Sansa, Sansa carefully transferring the Yorkshire puddings from the baking trays into a towel-lined bread basket.

Jon went and standing behind her, his arms slipped around her waist, and Sansa smiled, leaning back against him, and his chin rested on her shoulder as she finished putting every Yorkshire pudding into the basket. He could hear their family on the other side of the swinging door, in the dining room, talking and laughing. He then looked to Sansa and she turned her head to look at him.

“I love you,” he said to her and already, just after five months, it wasn’t nearly enough, but he didn’t know any other word to say to her that meant something more.

“I love you, too,” she smiled back and though Jon might have wished for the knowledge of a stronger word, he knew that it would always be the only word he ever wanted to hear.

…

The End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First things first:
> 
> Thank you so, so much to those who read and commented on this story. I know I said we would have one more chapter - and I actually had several ideas for it - but I thought that this was a good place to end this story and another chapter wasn't all that necessary. 
> 
> I also want to thank everyone who has read my Jonsa stories over the past few years. Your comments and dedication to what I post has meant the world to me. I am going to be taking a break for a while - not sure how long. Maybe a week. Maybe a month. I just feel like my stories are stale and I write these stories where nothing really happens and people have definitely gotten bored with it. I need time to step back and hopefully, come back with fresh ideas people will want to read. 
> 
> Thank you from the bottom of my heart.


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